


The Bezic-Seibert Dance System

by PinkGerberDaisies



Series: The Rhythm's Action [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst?, Dance Teacher - AU, Desire, F/M, Hockey - AU, Jealousy, Lost Romance, Second Chances, smut?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-05 16:29:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15174752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGerberDaisies/pseuds/PinkGerberDaisies
Summary: When Scott's hockey coach forces him to sign up for a dance class to improve his footwork and coordination, he's completely against the idea and doesn't take it seriously. That is, until he discovers the class's teacher is a girl from his past. A girl with green eyes that he's never been able to forget.Or, the five times Scott attends ballroom dance class, and the one time he doesn't.Inspired by the Stars on Ice Hip Hip Chin Chin routine.





	1. Prologue

** prologue **

_2009_ **  
**

 

At twenty-one years old, Scott Moir feels pretty good about his life. He’s a good son, a fun brother, a fair student, and tonight he gets to enjoy standing around the bar with a bunch of his buddies yelling, drinking, and celebrating his draft onto the Toronto Maple Leafs.

He tips his glass up, swallowing the remaining golden liquid, before slamming it down on the sticky, wooden surface and yelling, “Another round on me!” His friends all cheer and raise their pints to him, and that’s when he sees her.

She’s sitting alone at a booth across the room, nursing a coca cola as she reads from a large book splayed out on the table in front of her. Scott’s halfway across the room before he realizes what he’s doing. He nearly stops himself and turns around, but then she tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear, readjusting her pink headband, and the move is so endearing he can’t help but continue towards her.

When he reaches her booth, she looks up at him and Scott is immediately struck by how beautiful her eyes are – the most gorgeous shade of green he’s ever seen.

“Can I help you?” She asks, glossy pink lips spreading into a friendly smile.

“God, I hope so.” Scott breathes, and her cheeks flush adorably. He wants to count every freckle gracing the bridge of her nose.

The alcohol in him makes him a little sloppy as he falls into the seat across from her, but she just laughs good-naturedly and Scott joins in. “I’m Scott.”

“Tessa.” She smiles again, before looking back at her book and slowly turning a page.

“What are you doing all alone? And I mean that in a nice, friendly way. Not creepy like it probably sounded.” Scott grimaces as he tries to reassure her. Beer and flirting are not always the best combination for eloquence. Thankfully, Tessa just chuckles at his ridiculousness, and Scott can’t resist beaming at her.

"I’m just waiting for a friend. She’s supposed to be here any minute.”

“Ah.” Scott nods, then tilts his head to gesture at the book. “You a student?”

“Yeah. Psych major. I’m trying to cram like a million terms from the DSM-IV-TR into my brain as I can before my midterm tomorrow. You?”

Scott’s pretty sure she just slipped into another language there, but he doesn’t really care because he could probably listen to her voice forever – whether she’s speaking English, or Greek, or some Mandarin dialect.

“Nah, I’m not a student anymore. I just got drafted by the NHL.” He sits up a little straighter. The pride that he feels getting to say that sentence out loud is still new and exhilarating. He's been working towards this for so long, that he's had to pinch himself a few times in the last couple of days to make sure it's really happening.

“Oh, congratulations! That’s splendid!”

And really, who says words like _splendid_ anymore outside of romance novels? But it seems to fall naturally from her lips, like she’s just stepped out of an Audrey Hepburn movie. And for all Scott knows, maybe she did. She certainly looks the part - fresh-faced, innocent, frilly pink blouse. Part of him wonders if she'll start singing  _All I want is a room somewhere..._ at some point. 

“Thanks!” Scott grins again, running his hand through his hair for something to do as he asks, “So… would you maybe wanna dance?”

She bites her lip, and Scott doesn’t think it’s intentional, but she becomes even more enticing when she does that. He wants to bite it for her.

“Alright.” She nods, and Scott nearly trips and falls on his ass in his haste to slip out of the booth and lead her over to the small dance floor. He manages to stay upright, though, and takes her hand in his as they walk over to where a few people are already dancing.

Once there, he realizes that his beer-addled brain has made a monumental mistake. In his desire to get close to her, he’d asked her to do the one thing he didn’t know.

“I have a confession.”

“What?”         

“I don’t know how to dance.”

It’s a slow song, and Scott watches as Tessa smiles softly and places one of his hands on her waist, keeping the other wrapped around her own. Stepping in closer, she says quietly, “Yes, you do. Just let it come to you.”

Her voice is soft, sending shivers up his spine, and she surprises him further by resting her head on his shoulder as they sway back and forth. Scott can smell her strawberry shampoo – and he thinks he’ll probably remember that exact smell forever. He can’t resist burying his nose a little in the top of her head as they slowly rotate and move to the melody as Coldplay croons, _"That green eyes, yeah the spotlight, shines upon you. And how could anybody deny you..."_  over the speakers.

 

For a guy who tends to act very blase about life, deep down Scott is bit of a hopeless romantic. He likes to watch rom-coms to unwind and most of his favorite songs are love songs, and yeah, he believes in fate. This moment here, finding  _this_ girl as the DJ plays  _that_ song, feels like a pretty fucking big sign. 

          

Loud, boisterous laughter and jeering breaks out as one of the teams on the large TVs scores and it breaks through Scott’s reverie. The song comes to an end and a more upbeat dance song begins, and Scott finds himself looking down at Tessa and asking, “Do you… maybe want to get out of here? Go somewhere quieter… to talk?”

Normally, he’s so much smoother than this. He isn’t known as a ladies’ man for no reason – since he finally hit puberty around eighteen he’d had no problem finding girls that were ready and willing to be a notch on his bedpost. But there’s something about Tessa and her sweet innocence that draws him in and throws him off balance. He simultaneously wants to protect her and fuck her, and it’s a jarring contradiction that leaves his brain at odds with itself.

She looks up at him as if he’s a complicated riddle she’s trying to solve, and he hopes that whatever she finds is to her satisfaction.

“Or we can stay here and dance.” He gulps nervously, aware that his buddies still at the bar are leering at them, making obscene hand gestures in their direction. He has to fight the primal urge to turn Tessa away and hide her from their gaze.

“… Quieter would be nice.” She finally says, barely more than a whisper, and Scott wants to whoop with joy. But that would probably freak her out, so instead he takes her hand again and leads her off the dance floor, threading her fingers through his and marveling at how _right_ it feels. Like her small hand was made for his.

“Tess! There you are!” A pretty blonde comes running up to them, all legs in her short jean skirt, taking no notice of Scott at first as she wraps Tessa up in a hug.

“Hi, Kaitlyn.” Tessa pats her on the back, returning the hug awkwardly with her one free arm.

“Did you order already? I’m _starving_.”

“Actually, um… I’m going to head out. With Scott.”

Kaitlyn notices him for the first time, eyes dropping to where his hand is entwined with Tessa’s and raising a critical eyebrow. When her eyes return to his face, Scott gives her a little wave – acutely aware that he’s being seriously evaluated by the resident best friend.

She turns back to Tessa, the look on her face a mixture of surprise and concern. “You are? Are you sure?”

Tessa fidgets under her friend's intense gaze and for one heartstopping moment Scott’s afraid that she might change her mind, but then she stands up a little straighter and looks at Kaitlyn confidently. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Kaitlyn nods slowly, like she's trying to figure out if her best friend has become an alien or not. “Guess I’ll be eating alone then.”

“Actually, remember my friend Andrew? I’ve mentioned him a few times-“

“A few _hundred_.” Kaitlyn grumbles under her breath, folding her arms across her chest and rolling her eyes, and Scott feels a pang of hatred and envy at the mention of this other man.

He nearly staggers back at the onslaught of the unfamiliar emotion. Jealousy. He's _jealous_. He doesn’t think he’s ever been jealous before – never cared enough about a girl to _be_ jealous. Usually, he’d be grateful to hear mention of another guy in her life, because it meant it would be easier to keep things casual, but something about Tessa makes him feel… connected in a way he never has before. And he doesn't want to share her. Apparently, he's a bit possessive... Scott is making all sorts of new discoveries about himself tonight, and he's not entirely sure he likes it.

“He’s coming tonight. Should be here any second. You can eat with him and finally get to know each other!” Tessa’s whole face lights up at the prospect, and Kaitlyn smiles at her reluctantly, giving Scott the sense that Kaitlyn acquiescing so easily to Tessa’s enthusiasm is something that happens often. He can’t say that he blames her, he’s only known Tessa for about twenty minutes and he already wants to, well – how did the song go? “ _And anyone who tried to deny you must be out of their mind._ ” 

Tessa hugs Kaitlyn again goodbye, flushing red and nodding into her shoulder as the blonde whispers something in her ear, before letting Scott lead her outside.

“My apartment isn’t far from here… is that okay with you?”

“Lead the way, Mr. hockey guy!” Tessa says, bouncing on her toes and shivering a little at the cold March air. Scott shrugs out of the coat he’d just put on to wrap it around her shoulders.

“Oh, no I’m fine. Won’t you need this?” She protests, but Scott zips it up for her before she can take it off.

“It’s a short walk, and you need it more than I do.”

The smile she gives him is more than enough to keep him warm for the four blocks it takes to reach his second floor apartment.

 

“Can I get you anything? I have water, coke, and a couple beers, and I think maybe a bottle of vodka in the freezer.” He asks once they’ve stepping inside his little one bedroom space.

One of the things Scott is most excited about now that he’s got a career is moving out of this dingy little apartment and into something nicer. Although it’ll have to be something nicer in _Boston_ , since he’ll be playing in the minor leagues for a little while before he gets called up. Still, he keeps the place clean and fairly  organized, so he’s not horribly embarrassed as he watches Tessa’s eyes move around the living room and kitchen, taking it all in.

“This might sound a little silly, but do you have hot chocolate?” She pulls off his coat, and then her own, before coming to stand beside him by the fridge.

“I think I might, actually. My mom always sends me home with a bunch after Christmas.”

He rummages around his cupboards and finally finds a few tearable packets of hot cocoa mix, shouting “Aha!” and waving them around triumphantly as Tessa giggles.

Once they’ve settled in with their mugs of cocoa on the couch – Tessa’s full of little marshmallows that she had found, with much delight, in the back of his pantry – an awkward silence begins to descend. He’s not sure what to do about it, since he’s never really had to make small-talk with the girls he’s brought back to his apartment before. Usually the procedure is: walk through front door, grope each other as they stumble towards his bedroom, proceed to get each other off as quickly as possible, say goodbye, pass out.

This… cozy companionship is entirely foreign.

“Did you always want to be a hockey player?” Tessa asks, and Scott could kiss her in gratitude.

“Pretty much. When I was a kid I skated singles for a while, my aunt is a coach, but I didn’t like being alone on the ice. It makes me feel too…”

“Vulnerable?” Tessa chimes in, holding her mug up close to her face with both hands like a child and crossing her legs underneath her. She looks like she’s settling in, and Scott likes the idea of it. Could get used to her snuggled up on his couch.

He mentally shakes himself. _Snap out of it, you weirdo!_

“Yeah. Too vulnerable.”

“I know what you mean. When I was a kid doing ballet all the other girls talked about how they dreamed of playing Odette or Cinderella or Giselle, but I never wanted that. The idea of being alone on stage without a hand to hold…” She shudders a little bit, and Scott finds himself nodding.

“Yeah, exactly. I like being on a team. Do you still dance?”

“Mmhmm.” She murmurs, mouth full of cocoa, before swallowing and expanding on her answer. “I’m actually minoring in dance right now.”

“Sounds like you must really like it. Why aren’t you majoring in that?”

Tessa looks down at her mug, her fingers tightening around it slightly as she bites her lip again. “My sister’s a ballerina for the National Ballet of Canada. And, I don’t know, Jordan is just so _good_ at it. She’s a natural – and definitely not afraid to be alone on stage. She was Cinderella in last season’s production. I guess… I was just afraid that I wouldn’t be able to measure up.” She finally looks up at him then, looking embarrassed. “I’ve never told anybody that before.”

Scott smiles and pats her knee, and then finds himself confessing his secret as well. “I’m terrified of playing in the NHL.”

“Really?” She sits up straighter, tilting her head like he’s not making any sense. “But you were so excited earlier. Wasn’t that what you were celebrating tonight?”

Scott nods slowly. “Yeah. I mean, I am excited. It’s an amazing opportunity and it’s what I’ve always dreamed of, but… what if I fail? What if I’m so bad playing against the pros that they send me home after one season in the minors? What if I’ve wasted my whole life chasing after some pipe dream?”

He scratches along the seam of his couch cushion, watching at the frayed fabric snags at his fingernails. He looks up in surprise when Tessa takes his hand in hers, having set her mug down on the coffee table while he spoke.

With a reassuring squeeze, she says, “You pile up enough tomorrows, and you’ll find you are left with nothing but a lot of empty yesterdays.”

“What?”

“It’s a quote, from _The Music Man_. Basically, he’s telling Marian, the love interest, that waiting until tomorrow to do what she wants could mean missing the chance completely. I can’t pretend I know how scary it is to play a sport professionally like that, but I do know you’d regret it if you didn’t at least try, right?”

It’s amazing, really, how this girl who barely knows him has seen right through his soul and found exactly the right thing to say. Maybe he should be watching more musicals.

“You’re right.” He agrees, and Tessa smiles – looking pleased with herself – and Scott wants to laugh at how adorable she is. “Are you practicing to be a therapist?”

It’s Tessa’s turn to laugh now, before replying, “Oh, no. I don’t think I’d want to be responsible for solving other people’s problems all the time. Talk about pressure!”

“You seem pretty good at it to me. I feel cured. What do I owe you?” He can't resist teasing her, and he's immensely satisfied when she plays along.

She squints, tapping her chin as she contemplates her answer. “Well, therapists are pretty expensive. I’m going to have to charge you at least seventy-five dollars, I think.”

“Seventy-five!? I’m not in the NHL yet, lady.” He pretends to be outraged and Tessa laughs – a sound Scott is quickly finding addictive. He wants to make her laugh as much as possible. Loves watching the way her eyes light up and she tilts her head back in delight.

In that instant, her hand in his and sitting close together on his plain brown sofa, Scott decides to take the plunge. “How about a kiss instead?” The words rush out of him, and then he clamps his lips together as he waits for a reply.

Tessa stops laughing then, but the light in her eyes doesn’t fade. Instead, it softens into something warm and intimate, and she nods. “I think that would be sufficient payment.”

He leans forward slowly, savoring the way her eyelids flutter closed and she tilts her chin up so that her lips can meet his. Scott presses his mouth to hers softly at first, just a gentle kiss to see how she responds, and her hand flies up to tangle in his hair.

It’s all the encouragement he needs to cup her cheek and tilt her head just slightly to readjust the angle so that he can slant his lips against hers, kissing her with more intent this time. Kissing her again and again until finally daring to run his tongue along her bottom lip – encouraging her to open up for him.

She opens her mouth almost immediately and Scott wastes no time stroking his tongue alongside hers before biting down on her bottom lip – just like he’d been dreaming about doing all night. A sweet moan breaks free from the back of her throat and Scott realizes he’s practically half on top of her now, the hand not holding her face having inched up higher on her ribcage – until his thumb could graze the side of her breast.

He pulls away to catch his breath, noticing the way Tessa’s chest rises and falls quickly as she does the same. Her lips are swollen with his kisses and her eyes are watching him like she’ll follow anywhere he wants to lead her.

“Do you want to take this somewhere more comfortable?” _Please say yes, please say yes_.

“Yes.” She responds immediately, looking a little embarrassed at her own eagerness.

“Awesome.” Scott feels like an idiot for how widely he’s grinning – like a fucking virgin about to get laid for the first time – but he can’t help it. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this excited to be with a girl before.

 

His bedroom curtains are open wide, allowing the full moon to bathe the room in light. It’s enough that Scott doesn’t feel the need to turn on a lamp, which he’s oddly grateful for. He likes the sort of mystical atmosphere the moonlight creates, and the beautiful contrast it creates in Tessa – her pale skin glowing like silver and her eyes as deep as emeralds.

He lays down next to her and they return to making out pretty heavily. Scott is caught up in the wonderland of kissing her. The taste of her cinnamon chapstick, the soft strands of her hair (he’s happy that his sheets will smell like strawberries now), the not-so-steady rise and fall of her ribcage under his hand.

The knowledge that she’s here, fully reclined on his bed, and apparently as into this as he is sends a jolt of arousal straight to his groin. He’s determined to let her take the lead though – dictating what they do or don’t do. How far they go or don’t go.

His right hand stays firmly planted on her side – not daring to go further until she slides her hand down his bicep and forearm, grabbing his hand and whispering, “Scott, it’s okay. I want you to touch me.”

 _God_ if that doesn’t hit him like a livewire. He watches as she moves his hand up to cup her breast and Scott can feel his heart kick up the beat to double-time. He squeezes experimentally, eyes switching back and forth between what his hand is doing and recording her reactions. He can tell she likes it by the way she pulls his face down for another kiss, but it’s hard for him to really do anything through the silky gauze of her blouse and padded bra.

Her fingernails scratch along the base of his neck and Scott moans embarrassingly loud. He can feel Tessa smirk against his lips, and she does it again, this time tugging at the hair there a little, earning a jerk of his hips into her thigh.

She pushes his face away suddenly, “Take it off.”

“What?” He asks, drunk on her and the speech-processing part of his brain taking a moment to catch up.

“My shirt. And your shirt. And probably our pants. They should all come off like, _right now_.”

Scott stares at her for a long moment, before her words finally compute – and then he’s jumping off the bed, “Okay, yeah. Yeah let’s do that.” He grabs the hem of his shirt and tears it off over his head before reaching for the button of his pants, momentarily distracted by the sight of Tessa sitting up and pulling her own shirt off. Much more carefully than he did his – she even takes a moment to fold it before setting it on his nightstand – before she leans back to reach for her pants.

“Hang on. Can I?” Scott reaches for her, and Tessa nods.

He unfastens the button and slowly drags the zipper down before dipping his hands into the top of her pants and pulling them slowly down her legs. Her skin is fair and scattered with freckles all the way down and Scott wants to map them out like constellations – kissing each one as he goes. As it is, he settles for leaning forward and planting a kiss on her sternum, right in the center of a large concentration of them.

“You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

She blushes, and now he can see that when she does it spreads all the way down her chest, disappearing into her bra. He wants to follow it with his tongue.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He double-checks, praying to God that she says yes.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” She reaches behind her and unclips her bra, letting it drop to the floor, and all thoughts of anything other than pleasure fly out the window.

 

Later, as they both are catching their breaths. Still sweaty and basking in the afterglow. Scott wants to ask her to dinner. Or a movie. Or maybe to just stay until he very last minute before he has to leave for Boston, but Tessa sits up suddenly and moves away from him – getting out of bed and picking up her clothes.

“Are you leaving?” Scott asks, panic lacing his voice that he tries desperately to mask. This isn’t usually how it goes. Doesn’t she want to stay? Was he not… good? He’s pretty certain she came – no, strike that, he knows she did. Twice. So what did he do wrong?

“Yeah, I really should go. I’ve got that midterm tomorrow.” She’s already putting her shirt on, and Scott really is impressed at how quickly and efficiently she can get dressed after sex. It usually takes him at least ten minutes to find the wherewithal to put on his boxers, let alone a whole outfit.

“Okay.” He’s not sure what else to say. Asking her to stay would probably be pathetic and needy, right? But part of his brain can’t stop thinking: _hadn’t they connected? Didn’t they share a moment? He’d thought she…_

“Thanks, for tonight and… you know.” She gestures vaguely at the bed and Scott could almost laugh. She’s thanking him for the orgasms. God, she really is adorable.

“You’re welcome.”

"Bye, Scott.” With a resolute nod she turns and walks out of the bedroom, and Scott has to resist the urge to follow her as he hears her walk out the front door.

           

He flops back on the pillows and stares at his ceiling. The smell of strawberries and sex permeates the air – it’s an intoxicating cocktail that makes the aching in his heart increase. He can’t help but feel like he’s letting something really special slip through his fingers.

But he’s had one night stands before, this really shouldn’t be any different just because they talked beforehand. Sure, he’d never felt like this about someone before, and sure, he’s already pretty sure he could fall in love with her without even trying, but she clearly wanted to go and he’s not an asshole so he didn’t stop her.

Maybe… maybe he can find her again tomorrow. Ask around at the bar or something. Resolving to do just that, Scott rolls over and buries his head in her pillow ( _her pillow_ , he mentally rolls his eyes at himself. _It’s been one night, Moir!_ ) and falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, I'm still not sure exactly where I'm going with this. It's been a bit of a bitch to figure out. But hopefully it takes me somewhere we all enjoy! :)


	2. i. the waltz

**i. the waltz**

_2014_

 

“So? What did he say?” Patrick stands up off the hard metal chair where he was waiting for Scott outside of their coach’s office. The once crowded hallway has emptied out after tonight’s game and traces of garbage still litter the floor. The smell of defeat hangs in the air. “Are you in trouble?”

Scott doesn’t acknowledge his friend, just walks past him, heading for the exit and counting on Patrick to keep up, which he does. “He’s sending me to dance classes.” He states in a monotone voice as he shoves the heavy arena doors open and steps out into the cool Toronto night air.

Patrick stops walking for a second, completely taken by surprise, before jogging to catch up. “I’m sorry. I thought you said-“

“Mandatory ballroom dance, yeah. He said it will help with my footwork and coordination.” Scott comes to a stop down the street a little ways, standing under a streetlight and waiting for the crosswalk to give him permission to go.

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

Scott loves Patrick. He does. They’ve been best friends for five years. Came up through the minors together. There’s genuinely not a soul he feels closer to , barring his own brothers, but his relentless optimism and positive outlook on life and mellow personality can be grating when all Scott wants to do is punch a wall.

Fucking dance classes. He knows he’s been having trouble getting his head in the game lately – been a little listless and detached – but he didn’t think it was so drastic as to deserve fucking dance classes. Yeah, he’d messed up tonight. Tripped on the ice in spectacular fashion and missed a goal – costing them the game. But it wasn’t like he had suddenly become a bad player! He was just… struggling lately.

“Maybe it’ll be fun.” Patrick says, sensing Scott’s blackening mood and trying to cheer him up.  

“You know what will be fun? Going to a bar and forgetting about this whole shitty day.”

Patrick gives him a look that Scott doesn’t like as he says, “Again, Scott?”

The concern in his voice instantly makes Scott defensive, and he lashes out. “I didn’t say you had to come.”

Patrick visibly flinches, and Scott’s anger immediately dissipates into guilt. “Chiddy, I’m sorry man. I’m just frustrated with our loss tonight and everything else.” He gestures vaguely to the air in front of them.

“I know, Scott.” Chiddy pats his shoulder and his friend’s unceasing kindness and understanding only makes Scott feel worse.

“Do you want to come? It’s two for one cocktail night at The Loose Moose. You can order twice as many of those vodka cranberry grapefruit things you like.” He’s extending the proverbial olive branch, even though he knows Chiddy would probably forgive him for committing murder. Honestly, it’s a wonder sometimes just how much of Scott’s shit he puts up with. He really owes him like, a fruit basket or something.

Chiddy rolls his eyes. “It’s called a Sea Breeze and no. I can’t. I’m meeting Liz’s parents tomorrow at brunch. Have fun though.”

“Sure. Always do.” Scott shrugs, ignoring the pang of loneliness he feels at watching Chiddy move forward with his life while Scott just… stagnates.

“Hey, Scott?” Chiddy calls back before turning the street corner.

“Yeah?”

“I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

With one last wave, he’s gone. Leaving Scott standing outside the bar feeling bewildered and bereft. What is he looking for other than cheap booze and a warm body to fill his bed for the night? His life, by all accounts, is pretty great. His job is to play the sport he loves and he gets paid good money to do it. What more could he possibly want?

A pair of green eyes flash through his brain and Scott clamps down on the memory. It’s useless to go down that road (He knows. He tried.), so he locks the memory up tight in the past where it belongs and walks into the bar.

 

If the beer sours in his mouth that night and the eyes he goes home with are the wrong color, well – what else is new?

 

* * *

  

Scott shuffles into the large ballroom behind a bunch of other adults, most of whom appear to be couples, wishing that he were literally anywhere else. There are a million other things he can think of that would be a better use of his Tuesday night, from getting laid, to seeing the new Lego movie, to walking barefoot over hot coals.

The room is simple and dated – plain wooden flooring covered in scuff marks from years of use. The walls an unsettling shade of off-white. He lets out a loud sigh and prepares to be bored for the next three hours.

"Excuse me?” A petite woman with raven black hair and brown eyes stands in front of him, craning her neck to see his face and looking a little awkward, but not shy. “Are you here alone, by chance?”

Is that not allowed? Suddenly Scott’s worried that he was supposed to bring a partner. “Um… yes? Just me. Flying solo.”

“Oh perfect.” She sighs in relief. “Me too. I’m Dalisay, by the way.” She sticks out her hand and Scott shakes it, never one to refuse a pretty face. His night is suddenly looking up.

“Scott.”

“Nice to meet you. Care to be partners?”

“No boyfriend to dance with?”

“Well, my sister bought me and my boyfriend a spot in this class for Christmas, but then we broke up. I decided to come anyway.” She shrugs.

She’s on the rebound. _Perfect_. “Well I’ll try to be a pretty good consolation prize then.” Scott winks at her. “Dalisay isn’t a name you hear very often. It’s pretty.”

“It’s a Filipino family name.”

“I like it.” He enjoys the way she smiles at him and steps a little closer. Maybe this class won’t be such a waste of time after all. Maybe he can spend his Tuesday nights making his coach happy _and_ getting laid. Win/win for everybody.

 

“Hello everyone!” A tall, good looking guy with hair any man would envy stands at the front of the classroom – clearly the teacher. Scott watches him with disinterest as he begins the class. “I’m Andrew Poje, one of your instructors. Welcome to Ballroom for Beginners. Just a brief introduction, I’m the head choreographer for the Toronto Dance Company, and I’m very excited to be teaching these adult classes here at the community college for my third year in a row.  I hope you’re all ready and eager to learn. This is my partner, Miss Virtue. She’ll be co-teaching with me. She’s a fabulous dancer, so ladies keep a sharp eye on her and you’ll pick up the moves in no time.”

“Thanks, Andrew.” The woman says loudly. There’s something familiar about her voice that Scott can’t quite place, but standing at the back of the room like he is, all he can see is the top of a dark ponytail. “Tonight we will be focusing on learning the basic waltz. The box step is the foundational step for everything you’re going to learn in the waltz and beyond, so pay close attention.”

Scott’s attention is already waning. He leans over to Dalisay to whisper a joke, chuckling along with her when she laughs. She shushes him, pretending to look stern, and directs his attention back to their instructors.

"The waltz is a smooth dance, which means it travels around the room counter-clockwise. So if you’re ever anywhere where people are dancing, basically notice which direction they’re going and make sure you join in and go the same way.” The woman’s voice continues, and Scott really wishes he could remember where he’s heard it before. It pulls at something inside his chest in a way he’s only felt once before, but there’s no way… there’s just no way.

“Otherwise you’ll run into each other like a herd of crazed wildebeest.” Andrew chimes in, eliciting laughs from a few of the women. “Now, Miss Virtue and I are going to demonstrate your basic box step. There is a rise and a fall to this dance, so the downbeat is on one. She’s going to start with her right foot going backward, and my left foot will go forward.”

Scott turns back to Dalisay and whispers in her ear, “A rise and fall? Next he’s going to say thrust and withdraw, right?” It’s not his strongest dirty joke, to be fair, but she giggles all the same, and Scott feels comfortable putting his hand on her lower back as he leans in again, “Do you think there are different positions? Or are we only allowed to do one?”

“I think it’s best to stick with the basics, for the first time.” Dalisay whispers back, returning his smirk with a wink, and Scott grins. Yeah, he’s _definitely_ getting laid tonight.

“Andrew’s going to lead me around now and we’ll count so that you can get the basic rhythm. Most people count in their heads the first few times they waltz until they can get the hang of it.” Miss Virtue says, and Scott can see their heads moving as they demonstrate. Everyone else seems to be watching with rapt attention, but he just doesn’t get the appeal of dancing.  

“I go forward, one, step to the right with my right foot, two, close left foot to right, three, and then take a step back on the right, slide left, close right foot to left foot. So it becomes one, two, three, one, two, three.” Andrew says as he leads her around for a moment so that the students can watch the easy glide and simple steps they should be learning. After a few turns they stop and step away from each other and face the class again. Scott’s too busy checking the time on his phone to notice. Over two hours left. Damn.

"Let’s go ahead now and practice with our partners. First, get into position.” Miss Virtue and Andrew walk around the room to make sure everyone is standing properly, and Scott turns to Dalisay with a knowing look.

“See? I knew we’d have to get in position eventually.”

“Ladies, your left hand will be on his shoulder. Gentlemen, your right hand will be on her shoulder blade.”

Scott pulls her in close, wrapping his right arm tight around her waist and letting his hand slide down her back until it rests just above her ass. He arches an eyebrow at her and she lets her own hand drop in return, stepping even closer to him with a smirk. _Two can play at this game._ He likes the challenge he sees in her eyes. It makes him bold. They start competing to see who can make the starting waltz position more scandalous, take turns until finally she’s got one leg wrapped around his waist and grinds her hips against his with a smirk.

“No, no, no! What are you doing?” The female teacher has her back to him as she sternly pushes Dalisay away, ponytail swaying wildly as she shakes her head back and forth. “I believe I said that your hand was to be on his shoulder, the other in his hand held high out to the side. And you should have a respectable distance between you – this isn’t some high school grope fest!”

Scott’s retort dies in his throat as she turns around to glare at him. Even framed by glasses, he’d recognize those green eyes anywhere. They’ve been haunting him for five years.

He feels pinned down. His mind going blank as his feet cement themselves to the floor. He just _stares_ at her, mouth hanging open like an idiot, watching as her glare fades and recognition replaces anger in her eyes.

“It’s you.” He finally says under his breath, desperate to reach out and touch her to make sure this isn’t some crazy hallucination or dream.

But the second he speaks she adjusts her glasses and mutters something about maintaining proper waltz position before turning around and walking away. The urge to follow her is so strong that he begins to take a few steps unconsciously, but his path is cut off by Dalisay.

“Wow. She’s a bit of a hardass, eh?”

Scott knows he should look away, snap out of it, and go back to flirting with the cute girl in front of him, but his eyes follow Tessa of their own accord. He soaks in the sight of her – perky ponytail, dark-rimmed glasses (those are new), navy knit cardigan buttoned up to the top, mint colored skinny jeans that hug her in all the right places. She looks like a sexy librarian – a kink Scott didn’t know he had until this very moment.

“Scott?” Dalisay shakes his arm and he finally drags his eyes away from Tessa to look back down at her. He’d forgotten for a moment that the other girl existed. Her brow is furrowed as she looks back and forth between him and their teacher. “Do you know her?”

“Um… We met once a long time ago.” He gives himself a little mental shake before smiling reassuringly at Dalisay. “Just wasn’t expecting to see her here. Sorry.”

“Is there… history or something?”

“Nope!” Scott replies quickly, probably too quickly, but he just smiles and carries on. “Nothing like that. Just a weird coincidence. Should we try again at this waltz thing?”

She lets him gather her up in his arms in the correct position this time.

"Everyone ready?” Andrew calls out once Tessa’s joined him back at the front. “Let’s practice. One, two, three – here we go.”

It’s an awkward start and Scott really has no idea what he’s doing. Dalisay seems to have some notion of where her feet go, so he just tries to follow her lead – which he knows is supposed to be his job, but frankly who cares as long as he doesn’t trip on her feet?

It doesn’t take long before one of the women yells, “Ouch!” – smacking her husband on the shoulder and hopping on one foot as he apologizes.

“That will happen while you’re learning.” Tessa says sympathetically, and Scott can see her mouth twitching as she tries not to laugh. God, she’s still adorable. “Try to remember to stand a little offset from each other. Girls a little to your left, boys make sure she’s slightly to your right. You’ll avoid each other’s feet that way.”

Scott begrudgingly follows her advice, shifting his partner a little, and is annoyed to find that it actually helps.

After they’ve all been dancing in the same box shape for ages, (he thinks he’ll be muttering one, two, three for days) Andrew says they’re ready for music and to try a slow rotation, and Tessa presses play on a waltz by Schubert.

Scott only knows it because it’s one of his mom’s favorite classical pieces, and he’s surprised to see Tessa swaying to it a little as she moves around the room giving advice and guidance. He can’t seem to resist seeking her out every few seconds. It’s like his brain and body have automatically attuned to her presence and now he’s _aware_ of her all the time. He catches the way her eyes close for a brief second as the music swells - it’s … enchanting. A word Scott’s pretty sure he’s never used before in his life.

Suddenly Andrew is there, sweeping her up in his arms with a laugh as they join the students in the waltz, and for the second time in his life Scott feels a sharp dagger of jealousy lance through his chest.

 

In hindsight, that should have been the first sign of trouble.

 

* * *

 

Tessa trudges into her apartment after escaping her class as quickly as possible. She’ll apologize to Andrew about that later, but right now she’s grateful to be safe inside the refuge of her home. After a long day of teaching little girls and preteens ballet, then spending three hours teaching a bunch of adults how to waltz, Tessa is anxious to get her shoes off, shower, and crawl into bed.

She hangs her keys up on the hook and walks towards her kitchen, kicking Ryan’s box of stuff as she goes for good measure. He was supposed to pick it up two weeks ago, but that asshole has been ignoring her texts.

Lighting her favorite vanilla scented candle, she pauses to close her eyes and enjoy the soothing smell, before opening the fridge and pulling out the leftover takeout from last night – reheating it and fully intending to turn on _My Fair Lady_ and stop thinking.

Thinking is bad. Thinking brought memories of hands on her body, lips caressing her skin, of the best sex she’s ever had… “No. Stop, Tessa!” She chastises herself – voice echoing in the empty room. She can’t believe Scott, her only one night stand, the boy who stole a piece of her heart like a thief in the night without a care at all, is in her community college dance class. _“Of all the gin joints in all the world…”_ She mutters as she angrily shoves food in her mouth.

It figures that the one year she gives in to Andrew’s request to joint-teach ballroom dance is the year that he would sign up for it. That’s just… par for the course in Tessa’s life. She really shouldn’t be as surprised as she is. Sometimes it feels like her life is one big cosmic joke.  

Her phone buzzes loudly on the table and Tessa expects she knows who it is sending the message.

           

**Kaitlyn:** What happened tonight? Andrew said you were acting weird and rushed out of there.

 

**Tessa:** Andrew needs to keep his mouth shut.

 

**Kaitlyn** : You hooked us up babe, you reap what you sow.

 

**Tessa:** My biggest regret.

 

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly at her phone, setting it down on the counter while she brushes her teeth and prepares for bed (ditching the movie idea in favor of extra sleep). Her text is a joke, of course. After all, she _had_ been executing a plan to set them up the night she’d met Scott, and it had worked perfectly. She’d returned from her walk of shame to find Kaitlyn practically vibrating with excitement and just bursting to talk about how much she liked Andrew.

 

Tessa and Andrew had been best friends since high school when they were on the school’s ballroom dance team together – and she thought of him like a third brother. When she’d met Kaitlyn, her freshman roommate, she had started conspiring to get them together almost from day one.

It did backfire sometimes, though, when the two of them ganged up on her. Which had only gotten worse since the engagement two months ago.

 

**Kaitlyn:** You love us. Now spill.

 

**Tessa:** You have to promise not to tell Andrew.

 

She loves the guy, but he has a tendency to go Extreme Big Brother mode towards the guys Tessa dates, and she doesn’t need him doing that in front of their students next week. Can only imagine how awkward it would be for everyone if their normally boisterous teacher spends the whole class glaring daggers at one of them for no reason.

           

**Kaitlyn:** Your secret is safe with me.

 

**Tessa:** The guy from That Night is one of our students.

 

**Kaitlyn:** TOONS!?

 

Tessa bursts out laughing, spraying toothpaste all over her mirror. Bless Kaitlyn for understanding immediately and bringing back the old code name. _Tessa’s Only One Night Stand_ – it had been Kaitlyn’s idea, a way to talk about Scott without Andrew catching on.

 

**Tessa:** Yes.

 

Her phone starts ringing as soon as her text is delivered. The nasal wailings of _Barbie Girl_ disrupting her bedtime routine. Kaitlyn had picked it out for herself one night in college when they were drunk on wine coolers and Tessa had never had the heart to change it.

“What’s up, Kait?”

“Okay, Andrew’s in the shower. Tell me everything.” Kaitlyn loves a good gossip session, and Tessa can tell by her voice that she’s settling in amongst her pillows and listening with rapt attention.

“There’s not much to tell. He’s in the class. It took me by surprise, but I’ll be fine once I take some time to process.” She says this more for her own benefit than for Kaitlyn’s. An attempt to reassure herself that she can make it through the next four weeks without hiding under a rock.

“What did he say? Did he remember you? Of course he did. You’re you.” Kaitlyn scoffs and Tessa huffs out a laugh.

“You’re a good friend. I think he did, yeah, but I didn’t really give him a chance to say anything.”

“Why not!?”

“Because it’s weird! What could he possibly say? It was a one night stand. This is awkward, but not a big deal.”

“Oh, sure. No big deal. He only ruined you for other men, but this is totally fine.” Sarcasm bleeds through Kaitlyn’s voice.

“He did not.” Tessa argues, her tone conveying the roll of her eyes that her friend can’t see.

“You told me Ryan never got you off. That you only came one time with him and it was an accident. THEN you sighed longingly, and I know you were thinking of Toons.”

“I told you that in confidence, not so you could throw it back at me later.” Tessa whines, embarrassed to remember just how well Kaitlyn knows her. She really should stop telling her so many intimate details of her life.

“I know. I’m just trying to point out the fact that maybe seeing him again isn’t as ‘whatever’ as you’re trying to pretend.”

“It’ll be fine, Kait. Really. There’s only four more classes – I can get through that without being weird.”

“Is that Tess?” She hears Andrew’s voice in the background and immediately stops talking in case he can hear her through the speaker. She hears Kaitlyn tell him yes, followed by a lilting command not to put on pants.

“Gross, Kait.” Tessa makes a face – tempted to hang up on them.

“Sorry.” Kaitlyn laughs, not sounding sorry at all. “I’ve gotta go. Still on for brunch on Sunday? We can talk more then?”

“Absolutely.”

 

Tessa bids her goodnight before climbing into bed and snuggling down under her fluffy white duvet.

It will be fine. Surely after five years Scott doesn’t even think of her anymore - if he ever even thought of her at all, which she's not convinced he did. Sure, it had been a pretty significant night for Tessa, and yeah, maybe Kaitlyn was right when she said she was still comparing her sexual experiences to that one, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t handle a few hours with him a week for the next month. She just had to treat him like any other student.

 

No big deal.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I know where I'm going with this yet? ... ... ... Not really. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated! <3


	3. ii. the viennese waltz

**ii. the viennese waltz**

 

 

Scott lies in bed alone for the seventh night in a row, tossing a baseball up in the air as a distraction from his insomnia. A distinctly dangerous endeavor, as the last time he had done so he’d sported a black eye for about a week and been hounded by reporters wanting to know if he’d finally gotten into a fight with that jackass right-winger from the Detroit Red Wings.

Since Tuesday’s dance class and the reintroduction of Tessa into his life, he hasn’t felt quite like himself. He didn’t take Dalisay home after class, even though she had made it clear that she’d be amenable to that. He hadn’t gone to a bar at all – which his coach appreciated, since it meant he didn’t show up hungover to practice all week.

He’d done nothing but practice hockey, play hockey, go to the gym, and hang out with Patrick and Liz. It was the most uneventful week he’d had in years, at least on the outside. But on the inside he felt like someone had scooped out his organs and put them all back in the wrong places.

After class on Tuesday he’d gone straight back to his apartment, cracked open a lite beer, and googled Tessa. He’d never known her last name before and he was anxious to finally learn more about her.

The first couple of results were brief mentions of her in relation to her sister Jordan, the ballerina, followed by a couple articles linking her to a skier named Ryan. There was a picture of the two of them together at some fundraiser for the arts and Scott immediately decided the guy looked like a douche.

Finally, at the bottom of the page, he found her listed on the staff of Silhouette Dance Studio as “Ballet/Contemporary Dance Instructor.” All of the Google reviews for the studio seemed to mention her by name.

 

_Tessa really changed by son’s life. He’s so much more confident now._

_My daughters just adore Tessa…_

_Send your kids here! Tessa is the best teacher in Toronto._

It had filled him with a weird sense of pride, but that pride had quickly been eclipsed by his growing anger.

Anger that he still carried from her leaving that night. Anger at himself for not being able to get over it after five fucking years. Anger at her again for acting like she was the wounded party here.

 

After their… _tryst_ , he had gone to the bar as soon as it opened the next day to ask the bartender and anyone around if they knew who she was. Suffering either their mockery or pity from each in turn at being a guy searching for a girl who fucked him and then left. But apparently she wasn’t a regular visitor. Still, he had gone back every night for two weeks in the hope that he would see her again.

Everywhere he went he’d think, “Is this the place?” Would he find her in that grocery store, or this café? He held out hope all the way up until he buckled his seatbelt on the plane to move to Boston.

 

Aggravated, Scott grabs his phone from the nightstand and dials Chiddy’s number.

“Hello?” His friend’s reply is slurred and muffled. Clearly he had been asleep.

“I’m not going to dance anymore.” Scott says without preamble, moving his head quickly out of the way of the stray baseball that he accidentally misthrows, sighing in relief as it hits the pillow where his head was only a second ago. He really needs to stop playing catch in bed before he breaks his nose.

“Scott? Are you drunk?” Comes Chiddy’s slightly more awake, and definitely apprehensive reply. He’s dealt with many drunk calls from Scott before.

“What? No.”

“Then why are you calling me at THREE IN THE MORNING!?”

Scott winces as Chiddy’s voice bursts through his phone loud enough to sound like he’s on speaker. He probably should have checked the time before calling.

“Oops.”

“Yeah. Oops.”

Scott waits for a moment, but Chiddy doesn’t say anything further, so he continues. “Well, since you’re awake…” He lets his voice trail off and Chiddy groans loudly.

“You have two minutes before I hang up.”

“I’ve decided I’m not going to dance class anymore and I need you to help me come up with a plausible reason why to tell Coach.”

“You called me in the middle of the night for this? Scott, you don’t have a choice. Not unless you want to be benched. So suck it up, put on your fancy big boy pants, and learn how to waltz.”

“You’re not very nice in the morning. You know that, right?”

“I’ll apologize tomorrow like a good Canadian. Goodnight, Scott. Don’t call me again.”

The line goes dead and Scott tosses his phone away with a huff. He knows Chiddy is right, but that doesn’t make this any easier.

 

\------------

 

The following night he sits in his car in the parking lot sipping on a coffee from the Tim Hortons across the road and wasting time trying to solve a crossword puzzle on his phone. Eventually he’ll bite the bullet and go inside, but not just yet. Ten down: anthropomorphic. Scott smirks in satisfaction as he types it in. 

A loud tapping on the window pulls him out of his solitude, and when he looks up he sees a pair of big brown eyes accompanied by a toothy grin looking in at him.

Dalisay.

Scott opens his door and steps out, instantly missing the warm interior, and returns her smile.

"Hey, Scott! How are you?” She bounces on her toes, hands shoved deep in the pockets of her coat. They’re having an unusually cold March this year. Even Scott thinks so, and it takes a lot for him to feel cold after winters spent outdoors in Ilderton as a kid. 

“I’m good yeah. You?” His smile expands into a jaw-cracking yawn and Dalisay’s look turns sympathetic.

“I’m great, but you seem pretty tired.” They turn and walk towards the building together as Scott mutters a reply about not sleeping well, accompanied by another yawn.

“You know what helps with that? Endorphins and physical activity.” She winks and flounces into the classroom, greeting a few of the other couples with a cheery, “Hello!”

Scott scans the room once, and then again for good measure. Andrew stands at the front of the room talking to a young couple, but there’s no sign of Tessa. For one brief moment he thinks maybe she won’t be here tonight – a thought that has him simultaneously relieved and disappointed.

But then she arrives in a whirlwind of movement – running up to Andrew and giving him a quick peck on the cheek as she pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, Drew. Work ran late – one of our girls sprained her ankle and we couldn’t get ahold of her mom to pick her up and she was crying and we didn’t have any ice for the swelling and it was just chaos.”

She drops her duffle bag and purse down in the corner, pulling out her heels to replace the fuzzy boots she’s currently wearing. Andrew follows her, laughing and reassuring her that she’s actually one minute early.

As she stands up she takes off her grey coat. Underneath she’s wearing a sapphire blue spandex turtleneck with a large cutout in the back and black leggings, and it really shouldn’t be as sexy as it is. Scott is suddenly struck by the memory of that shitty movie his ex-girlfriend had forced him to watch back in Boston. _“You’re my brand of heroin_ ” or something. It was a stupid line, but it feels annoyingly relatable right now.

“Welcome back!” Andrew begins as soon as Tessa is ready and standing by his side. “We’re going to start by going over the stuff we learned last week, if you can all please get into waltz position.”

Tessa turns on another classical waltz, one that Scott doesn’t recognize this time, and he finds himself being poked in the ribs by the short girl next to him. “Are you ready, or are you going to keep staring?”

They work on making sure everyone remembers the box step for about half an hour before Tessa stops the music and Andrew gets their attention again. “Great! That’s really good work everybody. Geoff, Amy, I can tell you guys have really been practicing, well done.” He nods at one of the older couples standing at the front.

"Now we’re going to build on that by learning the slightly more advanced Viennese Waltz. This is the original form of the waltz. What we learned last week is actually the English or slow waltz. The Viennese Waltz has about twice as many beats per minute, so it's a little more complicated.”

He nods at Tessa and she takes over the lecture, looking every bit the teacher despite her casual athletic wear. “The Viennese Waltz is the oldest of the current ballroom dances and dates back to the eighteenth century. While it may seem tame next to modern dance trends, at the time it was very controversial. Women had to hold their skirts up high to keep from stepping on them, and dancers had to stand very close together, so some people claimed it was the source of moral decay.”

Dalisay catches his attention and he has to bend down slightly so that she can whisper, “A bit ironic, coming from her, considering how she reacted last week.” She rolls her eyes and Scott chuckles because he know that’s the reaction she wants. But there's something about the idea of less-is-more that he finds arousing about what Tessa says. Like how an artfully posed picture can be sexier than a plain nude photo. He supposes it has something to do with _anticipation_ , as opposed to the blatant sexuality of grinding on someone. The heady mixture of innocence and desire. Maybe ballroom dance isn't as boring as he thought...

“Proof that society doesn’t change, even if the dances do.” Andrew adds with a wink and a few of the women in the room laugh. Scott fights the urge to snort. “This dance is still very popular today, but not always easy to learn for beginners. But don’t worry,” Andrew smiles reassuringly, “Tessa and I will show you the easiest way to dance this waltz using just natural turns and side movements.

“We start with the natural box. The man starts with his right foot forward, lady with left foot backwards, like we learned last week. And one, two, three, two, two, three, three two three, four, two three.” Andrew and Tessa stand side by side, each showing the basic steps individually so that the men can watch Andrew and the girls can watch Tessa.

"Okay, let’s try together. Get in position with your partner.”

“After you do turns like this for a while, your head will probably become dizzy. The best solution to this is to add side-steps without turning. Like this.” Andrew takes Tessa in his arms again and counts, moving the two of them side to side instead of spinning. “So we can combine the two,” Andrew says as they continue dancing, “By doing four turns and then four side to sides. Keeps the dance interesting, and keeps you from falling over on your partner.” He jokes, pretending to collapse on Tessa from dizziness, and everyone laughs.

Tessa just shakes her head at him and rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Ladies, if your partner does that, please feel free to drop him.”

Andrew pouts at her and she pinches his cheek, pretending to console him like a baby, earning a few more laughs. Objectively, Scott acknowledges that they’re cute together, but his hands still ball into fists as he watches them flirt. The sane part of him knows that he’s overreacting and being jealous, but, well… his brothers would tell you that he’s not always sane. He can be a bit passionate and hot-headed. Would say it's one of his trademarks both on and off the ice.

Scott spends the rest of the class determinedly paying attention to Dalisay – focusing intently on learning the steps and leading her around the room. Making her laugh. Trying to ignore Tessa, even though he can feel her eyes on him a few times.

          

“So… you wanna go get a drink or something?” Dalisay asks him as they put their coats on at the end of the night. He’s tempted, he really is. It would be so easy to say yes, follow her to the bar, or more likely, her place, and get lost in her body. But in his current state Scott knows he wouldn’t be able to focus properly, and if there’s anything he prides himself on it’s being good in bed.

“I’m pretty beat. Another night, maybe.”

She shrugs like it’s not a big deal and waves goodbye, heading off to her car across the parking lot and chatting happily with a few other people from class.

           

Scott stands on the curb waiting for Tessa, blowing puffs of air and watching the white cloud of condensation dissipate slowly. People wave goodbye to him as they leave, one guy stopping to ask for a quick autograph as his wife apologizes for her husband. Scott just laughs and obliges. He likes meeting fans, as long as they don’t ask for a selfie.

Finally Tessa emerges, bundled up in her coat and a huge scarf that hides half her face, talking to Andrew. She stops walking as soon as she sees him waiting, but Andrew doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

“See you Sunday!” He waves and walks off towards the parking lot, leaving the two of them alone.

 

After a moment, she walks forward until she’s standing next to him, but maintaining a respectable distance. “What… Did you have a question about the waltz, Mr. Moir?”

It’s way too cold out to dance around the issue at hand. _Pun intended_. So Scott cuts right to the chase. “Don’t you think we should talk about it?”

“About what? The waltz? It’s a dance in triple time performed by a couple who-“

“You know what, Tess.” He keeps his eyes on her, and she ducks her head to avoid his gaze.

“I’m not sure what there is to talk about.” She mutters into her scarf, looking reminiscent of a kicked puppy. Scott sighs and decides to go easy on her instead of confronting her outright (like he was originally planning to do).

“How have you been? What have you been up to for the last five years?”

Her chin shoots up as she looks at him in surprise – clearly expecting a different line of questioning.

“Oh, um, I’ve been good. I graduated and I teach dance now. At an academy for kids. It's hard work, but I enjoy it. You? How’d that whole NHL thing work out for you?”

He wonders if he should be insulted that she hasn’t followed his career, but she looks like she genuinely wants to know, and Scott finds himself falling down the same hole he did five years ago on his lumpy couch – wanting to tell her everything.

“It’s… harder than I thought it would be.”

Her brow furrows and she bites her lip, and Scott swears the clock has moved back five years and he’s twenty-one and nervously wanting her again. Undeniably attracted to her and feeling completely out of his depth. “What makes it so hard?”

His mind immediately goes to the gutter after years of being conditioned to do so, and he _almost_ replies, “You.” But he stops himself just in time. “It’s just a lot of pressure and kind of exhausting. I guess I’ve become a little disenchanted with the whole thing lately.”

She reaches out and places a gentle hand on his elbow. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you can find your love of it again.”

Her hand rubs up and down his arm and Scott’s certain its unintentional, but he’s not about to pull away. Although after three solid seconds of the two of them staring at each other Tessa seems to realize what she’s doing and pulls her hand away like she’s been burned.

“Well, it’s been great catching up, but I’ve gotta go.” In her hurry to get away, she steps off the curb without looking – right into the path of an oncoming car.

 

Scott sees the headlights only moments before they hit her, and he’s never been more grateful for his quick reflexes than he is in that moment as he grabs Tessa roughly by the arm and hauls her back against his body. The car honking loudly as they speed past out of the parking lot.

“Watch it, asshole!” Scott yells out, hoping they can see him flipping them off in their rearview mirror. He turns back around to find Tessa holding onto him tightly and shaking. “Are you okay?” He whispers gently, pushing a few strands of hair that have fallen out of her messy bun away from her face. She still smells like strawberries. 

“Yeah. I think so. That was just…”

“Scary?” Scott gives her a little smile, leaving his hand on her cheek – pink from the cold and, he hopes, their close proximity.

She pulls back suddenly, arms returning to her sides. “Thank you for saving my life.”

His arms feel empty without her in them, and they hang awkwardly at his sides as his fingers itch to reach out for her again. “Anytime.”

"See you next week.” She looks both ways twice before crossing the street this time and heading towards her own car.

Scott watches her go, his emotions in even more turmoil than they were before. He’s still angry, and hurt, and he desperately wants to talk to her about why she left. But he’s also enraptured by her smile, intoxicated by her touch, and consumed by the overwhelming desire to kiss her.

 

* * *

            

 “Karen told us the schedule for next season.” Jordan announces as they sit across from each other inside Rooster Coffee House, their favorite place to meet on Saturday mornings and catch up on each other’s lives. “A few new contemporary pieces, and Rudolf Nureyev’s _The Sleeping Beauty_. I’m so excited, Tess. It’s gonna be a good year.”

“Wow, that sounds really great, Jojo. I hope you’ll reserve some tickets for me.” Tessa teases, knowing full well that Jordan always reserves season tickets for each of her siblings and their parents. Ballet night has been a Virtue family tradition for years.

“Of course. You’re my number one fan.” Jordan replies, picking off a piece of Tessa’s raspberry scone, even though she’d said only moments earlier that she was on a strict no carbs diet. Tessa doesn’t even bother chastising her for it. Having a sister means sharing your meals – it comes with the territory.

She’s trying to figure out how to bring up the Scott situation, anxious for her sister’s advice, when Jordan looks up at her and asks, “So how are things with you and Ryan?”

Tessa sighs and plays with her napkin, folding the corners into tight creases. “I told you, we broke up.”

“Oh, is that still going on?” Jordan looks down to reply to a text and Tessa grimaces. She loves her sister, she really does, but Jordan is hard to pin down. She’s like a hummingbird – always has to be on the move. Never able to just _sit_. At any given moment she’s doing three different things at once.

“Yes, Jo. It’s kind of a permanent thing.”

“Well, how would I know? You guys have been dating for like two years and you’ve broken up probably five times during that.”

Jordan isn’t wrong, but Tessa still sticks her tongue out at her sister like a petulant child anyway. “It’s final this time. I promise.”

“Too bad. He had a nice smile.” She snaps a couple pictures of her coffee from different angles until she’s satisfied, and Tessa knows it’s going to show up on Instagram in a few minutes. Hashtag coffee break. Hashtag ballerina life.

“If all you can say after two years about my boyfriend is that he had a nice smile, that’s a pretty clear indication that breaking up was the right idea.” She finishes off the rest of her scone before Jordan can and debates going back to get the pain au chocolate she was eyeing earlier.

“Hey, it’s your life. If you don’t want to date him, then don’t. Girl power!” She pumps a fist in the air and Tessa chuckles affectionately. “We should go out. Girl’s night! You can find a guy to rebound with.”

Tessa winces at the idea. “I don’t know... You know that’s not really my scene.”

“Come on, Tess. It’ll be fun! You love dancing and you never get to do it for yourself. Promise you’ll think about it.” Jordan gives her the biggest puppy-dog eyes she can manage, and Tessa knows eventually she’ll give in. She always does.

“I’ll let you know.”

“Yes!” Jordan grins like Tessa has already agreed (she basically has, they both know it). “Get Kaitlyn and Andrew to come. We can’t let them become boring just because they’re going to get married.”

“I don’t think Kaitlyn could be boring if she tried.” Tessa laughs and Jordan joins in, nodding in agreement.

“Did I tell you she braided Andrew’s hair last week? Just because someone on Instagram told her she should.”

“No way! Pics or it didn’t happen.”

“There’s a whole video. Here.” Tessa hands over her phone and Jordan laughs so hard her eyes start watering.

“He must really love her, to let her do that and share it in a public space.”

“Yeah. They’re kind of perfect for each other.” Tessa smiles to herself as she takes back her phone.

“Good call there, eh? Too bad you can’t play matchmaker for yourself.”

“Rude.”

“I just call it like I see it, Sis.” Jordan blows her a kiss and starts packing up her stuff to leave. She only ever has about an hour to spare in her carefully regimented weekly schedule, and Tessa wishes longingly that she could spend more time with her sister. She’ll probably say yes to a night out dancing just to get an extra hour or two with her.

“God, I’m an idiot. You said on the phone that you needed advice about something, and here we’ve been chatting away and you haven’t said what it is.” They’ve stopped by the exit and Tessa is grateful that Jordan brought it up – opening her mouth to finally discuss Scott – but then Jordan glances at her watch and Tessa deflates a little bit.

“It’s not a big deal. We can talk about it later.”

“Are you sure?” Jordan looks apologetic, and Tessa instantly moves to make her feel better – wrapping her arms around her sister in a tight hug.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, without knowing any details, I’d say follow your heart and not your head.”

Tessa laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. “You don’t even know what the issue is.”

Jordan places her hands on her hips and looks at Tessa like she’s an idiot. That special kind of look perfected by big sisters everywhere. “No, but I _do_ know you. I’m sure at least part of the problem is that you’re overthinking things. Gotta let your emotions take the wheel sometimes, Sis. Make 2014 your Year of Yes.”

“Oh, go on. You’ve got places to be.” Tessa pushes her out the door, following close behind and refusing to acknowledge that Jordan is right. Damn her.

Maybe her problem _is_ that she’s overthinking this whole thing. Maybe she should listen to her sister and just… follow her heart, wherever it may lead.

For a woman like Tessa, who makes lists for _everything,_ doesn’t like surprises, and needs to feel in control at all times, the prospect is terrifying.

After-all, the last time she let her heart guide her actions, she’d ended up in bed with a stranger and having her heart broken by the very boy who’s currently thrown her life into chaos. Can she risk that happening again? Does she even want to? She drives back to her apartment debating these questions, and when she arrives she’s nowhere close to having an answer.


	4. iii. the quickstep

** iii. the quickstep **

 

“Okay, we are going to accomplish three things today.” Kaitlyn says seriously as soon as Tessa sits down in her car. The windshield wipers steadily pushing away the lightly falling snow and the heaters blowing full blast.

“Other than finding you a wedding dress?” Tessa asks, happily accepting a cup of coffee from Kaitlyn, part of her stipulations for being forced to wake up this early on a Sunday. Weekends were supposed to be her respite. A chance to sleep in. There isn't much that Tessa loves more than lazy weekend mornings spent in bed. So if she was going to give that up, well then coffee was the least her friend could do. 

“That’s number one, of course.” Kaitlyn nods. “Number two is neither of us is going to feel guilty for ordering whatever we want off the menu at lunch. I made reservations at Miku, my treat.”

“And what’s number three?” Tessa asks with some apprehension, sipping on the hot Flat White in her hands and thinking longingly of escaping to a warm beach somewhere.

“We’re going to come up with a plan for Toons.”

Tessa rolls her eyes in response to Kaitlyn’s waggling eyebrows. “It’s just us, you can call him Scott. And we don’t need a plan. I told you, I’m just going to continue doing my job and then in another couple weeks it will all be over and in the past.”

"Sure, sure. You could do that. _Or_ …” Kaitlyn’s voice trails off as she focuses on switching lanes as they head down Yonge street.

“Or what?”

“You said he saved your life on Tuesday, and that he held you close, and you _felt_ something.”

“Again, I really need to stop telling you things.”

“I’m just saying, maybe it’s worth exploring. Clearly there’s still something there, you’re single now, you could give it a chance. Maybe after class you could offer to help him with a different _kind_ of dancing.” She winks and Tessa smacks her on the shoulder. 

"Kait!" She knows her cheeks are flushed, and the way Kaitlyn is looking at her makes it obvious she knows Tessa's thought about it. Well, dreamt about it would be more accurate. And she can hardly be blamed for her dreams, can she? Acutely uncomfortable with this line of questioning, Tessa changes the subject. “Let’s focus on goal number one, shall we? What store are we going to first?”

Kaitlyn turns with a sly smile before pointing at the building coming up on their right.

“Kleinfeld’s? Seriously?”

“Tessa, I have been watching _Say Yes to the Dress_ religiously for years. Of course we’re starting here. I know it’s probably out of my budget, but let me live my dream.”

Raising her arms in surrender, Tessa agrees, “It’s your wedding, Kait. Let’s at least take a look.”

About five dresses later, the girls are no closer to _The_ dress than they were when they started. Kaitlyn tries princess dresses and mermaids and trumpets and tea length, but, while all of them are pretty, none of them make her cry. Or even get a little misty-eyed.

"Is crying the litmus test now for choosing a dress?” Tessa jokes, earning a stern reprimand from her best friend and a glare from a sobbing girl in a white dress standing nearby.

“It’s the most important day of my life, if I’m not crying then something is wrong.”

“Well, what kind of look are you going for?” Tessa asks as she helps Kaitlyn step out of a heavily beaded mermaid gown with a see-through corset.

“We decided to do kind of a Midsummer’s Night Dream theme. It’s our favorite play. We booked the Toronto Botanical Gardens for September thirteenth, so put that in your calendar.”

"Do I get an official invitation?” Tessa teases as she blocks out the day in her phone.

“Of course, but as maid of honor you need to know as early as possible. I’m expecting you to throw one bitchin’ bachelorette party.”

Tessa laughs and promises that she will. “On one condition.”

“What?”

“I get to choose my own bridesmaid dress.”

“Deal.” They shake on it and Tessa looks over the dresses hanging on the rack in their dressing room with a critical eye.  

“I think you’re right. Nothing here matches the theme you’re going for. You need a dress that’s a little more… ephemeral.” Tessa suggests and Kaitlyn nods. “Then let’s go somewhere else. There’s a few different places in the studio district. Let’s try that.”

“See? You’re a great maid of honor already.”

 

“How about that place?” Kaitlyn points to a nondescript blueish-grey building on the street corner.  

“Sure, let’s try it.” Tessa agrees and they pull into a parking space.

The store is small, and there aren’t nearly as many options as there were at a place as big as Kleinfeld’s, but it feels welcoming. The ceilings are high and there’s lots of natural light pouring in from the windows. The furniture is all eclectic Victorian pieces, and Tessa likes it immediately. A tall, older woman with a sharp eye walks over to greet them. Her name-tag reads _Sasha_ and when she speaks she has a hint of a Russian accent.  

“Which one of you is the bride?” She asks harshly and without preamble, and Kaitlyn lifts up her left hand.

“Me.” She replies shyly, which is a little unusual for Kaitlyn and speaks volumes about the woman’s intimidating presence.

“Slightly above average height, good body, beautiful, soft facial features… What do you do for a living?”

Tessa and Kaitlyn are speechless, taken aback at her frank appraisal. She arches an expectant eyebrow and Kaitlyn rushes to answer, “I’m a dancer for the Toronto Dance Company.”

“A dancer. Excellent. Yes, now let me see the ring.”

Kaitlyn holds out her hand and the woman takes it roughly, examining the ring closely as Kaitlyn gives Tessa a look that screams, “Get me out of here. Abort! Abort!”

“I know exactly what you want. Come with me.”

Sasha leads them over to a rack with a selection of tops, rifling through them before pulling out a long-sleeved, lacy sheer option that Tessa can see Kaitlyn immediately falls in love with. Nodding approval at her own choice, Sasha then walks over to a selection of skirts, settling on a tulle skirt with a silky band around the waist.

“This. Try this on and you will see.” She hands both to Kaitlyn and pushes her towards the dressing room.

When Kaitlyn emerges there are tears in her eyes. The combination screams _Kaitlyn_ and Tessa nearly claps, but somehow she thinks a display of emotion like that would offend Sasha – who is eyeing their reactions carefully.

“It’s perfect, Tess. Exactly what I was looking for.”

“You look beautiful, Kait. Andrew’s going to love it.”

 

 

Miku was a favorite restaurant of theirs. Beautiful décor, prime location by the waterfront, and delicious sushi. Tessa loved to come here and decompress and stare out over the water.

Ever since she was a little girl, she had loved being out on the lake – either Ontario or at her family’s cabin by Lake Hudson. It sooths her in a way little else does. And with the snow falling slowly in big flakes today, it makes for a picturesque backdrop for their lunch.

“Okay, I’ve decided.” Kaitlyn begins as soon as they've placed their orders. “I’m going to say one thing about Scott, and then neither of us are going to talk about boys for the rest of the day.”

“Not even Andrew and the wedding?” Tessa teases, hoping to distract Kaitlyn from this topic of discussion again.

“Not even that. Ready?”

Tessa gestures for her to continue.

“I think you still have feelings for him, or _could_ have feelings, and it’s worth pursuing. Start small, see if you can find out if he has a girlfriend on Tuesday and go from there. Try to flirt a little and see if he’s into it. Take it glacier-pace slow if you want, but don’t let it slip through your fingers again. Okay, now I’ve said my piece. No more boy-talk.”

Tessa bites her tongue and lets Kaitlyn move the conversation on to the latest book she’s reading, Stephen King’s new horror thriller, _Doctor Sleep_ , and how terrifying it is. She listens to her prattle on as they move from one topic to another – both keeping their word not to bring up any boys.

 

By the time Kaitlyn drops her off later that afternoon at home, Tessa feels infinitely lighter. She’s had a great weekend, full of lots of needed girl talk with her sister and best friend, and both women have given her the confidence to maybe test the waters a bit with Scott on Tuesday night.

For the first time since the class started, Tessa feels kind of excited to go.

 

* * *

  

Scott stands alone in the back of the classroom blowing air onto his hands in an attempt to warm them up. He’d forgotten his gloves tonight, like an idiot, and so his hands had frozen during the relatively short walk from his car to the building. A snow storm had blown in that afternoon and was expected to bring at least thirty centimeters by tomorrow morning.

Attendance tonight is sparse, only about half of their class of twenty-four had braved the storm and shown up. Scott looks around for Dalisay, but it appears that she’s one of the ones who decided not to risk driving in the snow.

As he’s looking around the room, his eyes catch Tessa’s, brown meeting green, and he’s surprised at what he finds there. Instead of looking away quickly like he expected, she holds his gaze. She’s looking at him like she’s trying to make a decision, and he wonders what it is she’s debating with herself. If it’s him, well… He decides to smile at her, just something small and friendly, and is rewarded with her own tentative smile in return.

“Well, we’re a little depleted tonight, but let’s get started anyway.” Andrew says, pulling Tessa’s attention away from Scott so that she can join him at the front of the classroom. “Tonight we’ll be learning the basics of the quickstep. What’s different about this dance? Well, the clue is in the title, the quickstep is quick. Dancers should travel at speed across the floor and have the feeling of wind in their hair.” He ruffles Tessa's hair, which she's left down today, much to the amusement of the other students. She swats his hand away with an exaggerated eye-roll and Scott grits his teeth. 

“Now the quickstep is one of the most popular of all the ballroom dances. It’s fast, it’s exciting, and probably one of the ones that celebrities look forward to doing the most on those TV shows. It’s actually a sped up version of the Foxtrot with a bit of the Charleston thrown in for good measure. Like many of the very famous dances of the nineteen-twenties and thirties, the quickstep hailed from New York. And it actually originated from a dance called the Turkey Trot.” Tessa chimes in. Apparently, she’s an encyclopedia of dance history.

Of course she is. Scott would expect nothing less of someone who memorized a reference book once for a midterm. She definitely is the type of person that knows the history and nuance of every dance she teaches. He smiles to himself, imagining her as a little ballerina, dressed in a pink tutu and shooting her hand eagerly up in the air every time a question is asked.  

“Now one of the most important things to get right straight off the cuff is the tempo of the music. The basic feel of a quickstep is slow, slow, quick-quick, slow, quick-quick, slow. If you can get that in your head from the beginning, you’re on your way. Let’s get in position and start practicing with your partner.”

Standing awkwardly in the back, Scott wonders what the correct protocol is in this situation. Does he dance by himself? There are no sandbags around that he can see that could stand in for a partner. He’s debating the practicality of dancing with a chair when a voice breaks his concentration.

“All alone tonight?” Tessa surprises him by appearing in front of him.

“Um, yeah. I guess so.”

“It’s pretty nasty weather out there.” She holds up her hands, gesturing for him to take them. “May I?”

“Don’t you have to teach?”

“This _is_ teaching. I’m going to show you how to do the quickstep. Andrew can manage without me for a bit.”

“Are you sure about that?” And yeah, maybe he sounds a little petulant, but he can't help it. The look she gives him is confused, so Scott gives in and takes her hands warily, afraid that this might be some sort of joke, but Tessa smiles and begins guiding him slowly through the step sequence.

"Andrew won't care. He'll just be glad that I'm _engaging with the class_.” She says this like it's a sore point between them, and Scott wants to ask if she was forced into teaching by her boyfriend, but he stops himself. After a moment she bites her lips and asks with a forced air of nonchalance, “Where’s your girlfriend?”

“My-? You mean Dalisay? She’s not my girlfriend, we’re just both in this class solo.” Scott watches her face closely as he responds, trying to figure out exactly what’s going on in her head.

“Oh.” Tessa nods quickly and then returns to focusing intently on their movements, giving nothing away. She’s dropped her gaze from his, but Scott thinks he can see a hint of a smile on her lips. _Interesting_.

"You’re going to see a lot of sashays in quickstep. Normal ones, as well as a scatter sashay, which moves quickly around the room. In a scatter sashay you move quick-quick-quick-quick-quick, so you have to be very synchronized with your partner.” Andrew says from somewhere nearby, but Scott isn’t really paying attention to anything other than the beautiful woman in front of him. The woman who, if Scott didn’t know better, appears to be fishing for information on his dating life.

But that can’t be right. Isn’t she dating Andrew? They certainly act like they are. But part of him wants to… no, _already is_ hoping that this is a sign she’s still interested in him.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late!” Dalisay places her hand on his shoulder, sporting an impressive display of hat-hair and a red nose from the cold.

“Oh, you made it. Excellent.” Tessa says, but her voice sounds false and Scott could swear she looks disappointed. “We’re learning the quickstep. Scott can show you what we’ve done so far.” She drops his hands and Scott feels the loss acutely.  

“Great, thanks!” Dalisay says, not missing a beat – taking Scott’s hands in hers. “So what did I miss?”

“Not much.” Scott replies, eyes following Tessa of their own accord  as she walks away. Noticing the extra little sway in her hips. Scott turns back to Dalisay and pats her wild hair down, and she grins up at him in gratitude, not noticing that Tessa had turned around and was watching their interaction.

Tessa counts them off this time as they begin. “Slow, quick quick, slow, quick quick, slow. The man starts with his right foot moving forward, then side close side, then back, side close side. Ladies, you start with your left foot. Back, side close side, forward, side close side.”

           

“So, my ex wants to meet after this to _talk_.” Dalisay begins, drawing Scott’s attention away from Tessa – who is currently watching them closely from where she stands giving advice to another couple.

“Really? Are you going to?”

“I don’t know. What do you think? Is giving someone who hurt you a second chance, worth it?”

“Did he murder somebody?” Scott jokes, satisfied when Dalisay laughs and shakes her head. “Cheat on you?”

"No!” She shakes her head at him with another chuckle. “We fought over where to live. He wants me to move out to Saskatoon with him. Where his new job is.”

Ah, so this ex-boyfriend had been serious. Well, just as well. “I think it’s worth hearing him out. I mean, if he wants you to move in with him, that’s a pretty big sign that he wants to commit. So, yeah, I guess second chances can be a good thing.”

Dalisay nods, looking pensive, and they dance around the room for a little bit longer before she replies. “I think you’re right. I’ll talk to him and maybe we can work things out this time. Thanks, Scott.” She jumps up on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek and he smiles.

It’s a new position for Scott to be in, considering he knows if he told her _not_ to talk to her boyfriend he could probably date her, but he wants her to be happy. And her question about second chances has thrown his head for a spin. He can’t help but look back over at Tessa and wonder.

 

Class ends and Scott bids farewell to Dalisay, confident that next time he sees her she’ll have gotten back together with her boyfriend. Maybe that whole dalliance hadn't gone to plan, but he realizes he's just as happy, if not happier, to have gotten a new friend out of this class instead of another casual fuck.

He’s tempted to wait around and try to talk to Tessa again, but then he hears Andrew ask her to stay to discuss next week’s lesson plan and he gives up, instead heading off to use the bathroom before venturing out into the snow.

He ends up getting waylaid by a few people wanting to talk about last week’s hockey game with him, and by the time he’s broken free almost everyone else has left.

The snow is falling at a pretty rapid pace and Scott jogs towards his SUV, fumbling with his keys as he goes. He’s just unlocking his car when he hears the unmistakable grinding of an engine failing to turn over. Looking around the deserted parking lot, he spots a Prius a few rows over and goes to investigate. Tonight would not be a good night to leave someone stranded in the parking lot.

As he approaches, he recognizes Tessa in the driver’s seat hitting the steering wheel and muttering what looks to be some very intense curse words. Smothering a smile, Scott taps on the window, jerking her out of her rage-fueled monologue.

“Car trouble?” He asks as soon as she opens the door and steps out – stomping her foot on the ground in frustration.

“Stupid thing won’t start. I don’t understand. I just had the maintenance done last week! Ugh!” She kicks the tire with an impressive amount of force, and Scott barely manages to smother his laughter.

“Yes, kicking it should fix the engine." He deadpans and she shoots him an icy glare. "Here, let me try.”

“Sure, because I’m a woman and so I must not be capable…” She grumbles, her voice trailing off as Scott just waits patiently, holding out his hand for the keys.  

“Are you finished?” She wordlessly hands him the keys and Scott gets in, trying the engine a few times. “I think it’s the battery. I don’t have any jumper cables in my car, but any tow company should be able to come jump it for you.”

“Great. Thank you, Dr. Motors. Have a good night.”

Good God she's snippy when she's upset. Scott makes a mental note not to get on her bad side. Echoes of Carrie Underwood's _Before He Cheats_ run through his mind and he figures Tessa probably feels a strong emotional connection to that song. With an exaggerated sigh Scott shuts her car door and presses the lock button on her keys.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not leaving you here at ten o’clock at night to wait for a tow. It’s snowing like crazy, it’s freezing, and it would probably be hours before they could get here. I’ll give you a ride home, and you can come back in the morning when the snow’s stopped.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Where would I be going at ten o’clock on a Tuesday?” He asks with a laugh.

“I don’t know. You and Dalisay looked pretty cozy.” She folds her arms and buries her chin into her scarf – the same monstrous one from last week – and Scott laughs again. He wants to tug the scarf away and kiss the scowl off her face.

Instead he says, “I told you, we’re friends. She’s going to meet up with her boyfriend tonight.”

“Oh.” Tessa’s scowl disappears as her lips form a perfect circle and her eyebrows shoot up. God, he really, really wants to kiss her. Also, part of him that he’s not proud of feels a little victorious that she’s apparently jealous of him like he is of her.

“So?” He asks pointedly, waiting until she finally relaxes and gives in - following him over to his silver Acura.

"This is a really nice car.” She turns the heat up full blast and switches the seat warmer on, and it’s a wonder she’s not melting within seconds. Scott shrugs off his coat, letting her keep the heat how she likes it, not missing the way her head whips around at the sound of the zipper and her eyes follow his movements. 

“Thanks. It’s my winter car. Made expressly for rescuing beautiful damsels in distress.”

She blushes and Scott marks one point in the Win column.

“Your _winter_ car?” She asks, voice laced with disbelief.

It’s Scott’s turn to feel embarrassed. He realizes how that must sound incredibly pretentious. “In my defense, Acura is one of my sponsors. I do commercials for them and they give me an outrageous discount on their cars. So, yeah, I have an SUV for winter and a sports car for the summer.”

“Uh huh. That’s only moderately less ridiculous than if you had just bought them for yourself outright.”

“Hey, I’ll take you for a drive in that sports car and then you’ll understand. It’s _amazing_. Gorgeous, rides so smooth, leather interior, cherry red exterior.” He sighs wistfully, staring at the falling snow and longing for the warm summer to return. Scott spends most of his summer days, when he's not at the rink, driving his car through the countryside with the windows down. It's heaven. And, if he briefly imagines what Tessa would look like splayed out on the backseat (or hood) of that car, well it can't be helped. 

Tessa stares at him, laughter hiding behind her green eyes, mouth twitching. “Do you need to be left alone with it for a little while? Maybe work out some of those feelings? Have you taken it home to meet the parents yet? Drawn up the marriage contract?”

“Oh ha ha ha.” Scott rolls his eyes. “I’m serious, Tess. You have to see it to understand.”

“Okay.” Her voice is condescending, but she reaches out to pat his upper thigh and it sends heat shooting up his leg. Instantly aware of her hand and its proximity to _other_ regions of his body. The mood in the car shifts, the air becoming thick and heavy, and she pulls her hand back into her lap immediately.

“So… how are you liking the class so far?” She stutters and her voice is a little scratchier than normal, clearly affected by the mood in the car like he is.

Scott clears his throat and wills his lower half to behave. She barely touched him, for God’s sake. “More than I expected.”

“Wow, what high praise.” She says with a laugh so that he knows she’s teasing him.

“It wasn’t exactly my choice to attend, but I’m starting to enjoy it. You and Andrew make a good team.”

“Thanks! I’m glad you think so. I wasn’t sure if I should say yes when he asked me, but it’s been mostly fun so far.”

Biting the bullet, Scott asks “How long have you been together?” The question leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but he has to know.

A strange choking sound erupts from her body and it takes Scott a second to realize she’s started laughing.

“Together? Me and Andrew?” She laughs again and Scott feels like he’s been reading this entire situation entirely wrong. “God, no. I love him, but no. We’ve been friends for like ten years. Do you remember my friend Kaitlyn – you met her briefly, that… anyway you met her. They’re getting married in September.”

"Oh.” He’s an idiot. Here he’s been jealous and bitter over nothing for the last three weeks, wasting valuable time because he thought she was already in a relationship. “So.. just to clarify, you’re not dating anybody.”

Her fingers play with the zipper on her purse and her voice is unnaturally high when she replies with a cheery, “Nope!” 

Well, that changes everything. If she’s single, and he’s single, then there’s no reason why he can’t pursue her. And this time, he’ll do it right. He glances over at where she’s seated, staring resolutely out of the window, and smiles. After all, second chances can be a good thing.


	5. iv. rumba

**iv. rumba**

 

The morning sun breaks over a cold and icy Toronto - blanketed in freshly fallen snow that hasn't yet turned into brown mush from the traffic. The pale yellow light casting a glow over the city that makes it seem like a far more peaceful place than it is. 

Peaceful for other people, at least. For Scott it's a morning full of anxiety and indecision. He'd woken up early this morning, put on his best jeans – the ones he knew made his ass look especially good – and googled what time Tessa's dance studio opened so that he could be at her house before she needed to leave, ready to offer her a ride either to work or to pick up her car. He'd nearly turned around three times on the drive over to her townhouse, two cups of coffee growing cold as he debated whether or not showing up there is chivalrous or overstepping his bounds. 

He's just decided to turn around again when he pulls up to her street and then he knows it's too late. He's here now, so he might as well suck it up and push forward with his plan to woo Tessa. Hopefully she decides his gesture is on the chivalrous side of the spectrum. He parks his car and walks across the slushy street.

In the morning light he can see her building clearer than he could the night before – when it was masked by a thick blanket of falling snow – it’s a tall brown brick structure at the end of a row with lots of big windows. It suits her. It doesn’t look like anyone’s shoveled the walk though, the snow is still piled high and spilling into Scott’s shoes as he walks through it – sending an unpleasant shiver up his legs as it comes into contact with his skin. He really should have worn boots.

Steeling himself, Scott raises a fist and knocks on the door - practicing what to say in his head and eyeing the dark clouds in the distance warily as he waits.

_Morning, T! Coffee?_

_Hi, Tessa, how are you?_

_You should really shovel before someone breaks a limb._

He mentally strikes that last one off the list. Probably not a good idea to pick a fight with the woman he’s trying to date first thing in the morning.

After a few minutes of waiting and no response, Scott knocks again – louder this time -  worried now that he’d somehow missed her and she’s already left. At that moment the door swings open to reveal Tessa looking like a vision in pink – her hair piled on top of her head and her toes curling into her feet as if recoiling from the sudden cold air.

“Scott?” She asks in surprise, clearly confused - but she doesn’t seem upset about seeing him there, so he considers the morning a success so far. Her fingers play with the hem of her fuzzy sweater where it hangs over her black leggings as she asks, “What are you doing here?”

"Well, I happen to know you don’t have a car this morning, so I thought I’d bring you some coffee and offer you a ride.” There. That sounded nice and casual. Well done, Moir.

“Oh! I was just about to call Kaitlyn…”

“Perfect timing, then. Now you don’t have to.” He grins and extends the tray with the coffees. “Your choice, one’s a mocha latte and the other is an almond milk latte.” Tessa reaches for the almond milk with a small smile.

“Thank you… I guess. You really didn’t have to do this though.” She’s still standing awkwardly in the doorway, and Scott shivers as he continues waiting on the porch. He’s trying to prove that he’s a gentleman, so he’s not about to invite himself in, but he wishes she would do more than just _look_ at him – even if her look is blatantly approving. He catches her tongue darting out to lick her lips and he can’t stop a smirk from twitching at his mouth.

“It’s my pleasure, Tessa.” He moves his mouth around her name like a caress, and swears her eyes go darker for a moment, before she snaps out of it and stands up straight as a rod.

“I’m almost ready to go. Do you want to come in?”

Scott nods and follows her into the building. It’s not very large, but there’s a staircase and he’d guess from the look of it outside that there are two more floors. The interior is a perfect blend between modern and traditional. Dark wood flooring combined with all white walls and furniture, with dashes of accent colors thrown in. She has pictures hanging everywhere and a  _lot_ of books and Scott wants to spend time looking over each one, but Tessa leads him into the living room and instructs him to wait there while she gets her shoes.

He picks up the book on her coffee table, _The Goldfinch_ , with a bookmark tucked inside and makes a mental note to grab a copy so that he can talk to her about it. A large box in the corner catches his eye and he wanders over to inspect it. Tessa doesn’t seem like the kind of person to leave cardboard boxes laying around her pristine home.

Sure enough, as he gets closer he can see swirly letters spelling out RYAN on the top. _So_ … that douche from the online articles _had_ been her boyfriend. Although clearly he isn’t anymore, if the dents in the side are any indication. If Scott had to guess, he’d say that it looked like someone had been kicking it. Repeatedly.  

Tessa comes back down only a moment later and Scott hurries back over to the couch, watching her descend the staircase with her shoes, coat, and bag in hand. “Ready?”   

“Lead the way!”

 

Scott opens the passenger door for her and helps her step over a particularly large puddle - even though she'd been much smarter than him and worn snow boots. “Where to, m’lady?” He asks as he climbs into the driver seat. The engine starts immediately and Scott makes sure the warm air is turned up like she had it last night – wanting her to be comfortable. The radio is set to the Top 40 station, some song about counting stars drifting over the airwaves, but he keeps it turned down low so that they can talk.

"To the studio. Andrew’s going to meet the tow truck later today for me and get my car taken care of.”

“That’s nice of him.” Scott's relieved to realize he means it - all traces of jealousy gone. He's glad Tessa has such a good friend in her life. 

“Yeah, well, I kind of convinced him that it was partially his fault since it died at _his_ dance class.” Tessa confesses with a laugh.

"Why, Miss Virtue, how Machiavellian of you.” He says in mock outrage, then laughs at the expression on her face. “Hey, don’t look so surprised. I _did_ go to college, remember?”

“I remember, I just figured all those hockey games would have beat any higher learning right out of you. What’s that they say? ‘ _I went to a fight and a hockey game broke out_ ’?” Good lord, she’s teasing him. Her eyes slide sideways and her lip tilts up – just a hint of a tongue-touched smile – and Scott is thrilled. This morning is going even better than he dreamed.

“Have you ever actually been to a hockey game?”

“Scott,” She deadpans, “I’m Canadian. They revoke citizenship if you don’t attend at least one. My brothers played on teams as kids and my mom always dragged me along to watch. And, as I recall, most games included at least a couple of black eyes.”

“But I’m a professional, Tess. We’re above that kind of behavior.” Scott sniffs and pretends to straighten an invisible tie, and Tessa busts up laughing.

“Sure, of course you are.”

"Come to a game and see. I’ll reserve a seat for you and prove that we’re a more civilized breed in the NHL.” She eyes him skeptically, one perfect eyebrow arched high on her forehead, and Scott takes the plunge. “I’m serious. We’re playing Detroit on Friday night. I’ll put your name on the list. Bring Kaitlyn and Andrew if you want.”

Her cheeks are a little pink as she takes in his earnest expression, before nodding. “Alright. Sounds like fun.”

 _Yes!_  It’s not exactly a date, but Scott’s perfectly willing to count it as a _pre-date_ , which is a step in the right direction.  

           

* * *

  

On Wednesday night he broke out his rusty texting skills to ask her how her day was and what she was up to, and when she responded that she was drinking a glass of wine and watching Jeopardy, instead of teasing her for being sixty-five, he’d said, “Me too!” and proceeded to text her his answers (right and wrong) to the questions. She joined in enthusiastically, and they went back and forth the entire episode like that. 

He’d been better at the sports questions than her, which wasn’t surprising, but he’d also known most of the math related questions too, which he knew  _was_ surprising to her (Hey, I'm a man of many talents, Virtch). She’d beaten him on the history and literature categories, as well as the one about eighties music (that one he _did_ tease her for).

After that, it became a nightly tradition – eventually evolving into phone calls because it was easier to talk than to text. Scott was determined to prove that he wasn’t a meathead jock, and enjoyed bantering back and forth with her. Loved the way she made a frustrated noise every time she got a question wrong, loved even more the way she shouted when she got questions right.

It becomes increasingly obvious that Tessa is a fiercely competitive and stubborn person, but in a good way. A way that Scott finds challenging and makes him want to be better, while also providing some entertainment - he loves getting her riled up. Loves the way she whines  _Scoooooott_ the moment she realizes he's teasing her. 

  

He doesn’t ask her about the hockey game. She doesn’t bring it up and he doesn’t want her to feel forced into going. But the not knowing means that by the time Friday night rolls around he’s a ball of nervous, expectant energy. He’d told the ushers her name and that she could sit in the area reserved for family, and now his eyes keep glancing there as he waits to take the ice with the rest of the team.

"What's up with you tonight?" Chiddy bumps into him, drawing his attention away from the still-empty seats. 

"Nothing. Sorry." 

"Hey, I understand. Rivalry game - it's always a lot of pressure. But your skating has really gotten better lately, so maybe that dance class is paying off." 

"Yeah, I'm actually really glad Coach made me go." Scott agrees, but not for the reason Chiddy thinks. Scott's reasons have more to do with gorgeous green eyes and an infectious laugh, than they do with how well his feet move around. 

“Hey Moir! I hope you’re ready to eat shit tonight. We’re going to crush you.” Declan Rice, the right-winger for Detroit that the newspapers refer to as Scott’s nemesis (they’re not wrong) skates past, flipping Scott the bird as he goes.

He grits his teeth to prevent himself from replying, grateful when Chiddy (normally so well-behaved) flips the guy off for him. Scott’s had enough chats with his coach about not letting the asshole rile him up to prevent him from taking the bait before the game has even started. _You’ll get your revenge by winning_ – the mantra his coach made him repeat every time they played Detroit runs through his brain like a broken record.

"I hate that guy." Chiddy mutters, and Scott hums in agreement. 

Upon further consideration, perhaps inviting Tessa to a Red Wings game wasn’t exactly the _best_ idea. Especially not when the invitation was predicated on proving to her that hockey was more civilized now (Ha! As if). There is always,  _always_ a fight when the Leafs play Detroit, but tonight Scott is determined he won't be the one to start it (unlike the last two years). 

The buzzer rings out through the arena as the referee signals the start of the game, and all thoughts of anything other than winning leave Scott’s brain.

It isn’t until half-time, when the Leafs are comfortably up 2-0, that he has a chance to look up into the stands – heart stopping and then speeding up double-time as he sees Tessa there with Kaitlyn by her side. She’s looking at him and so he waves enthusiastically, grinning when she waves back.

“Who’s your friend, Moir? She’s pretty hot.” Declan waves up at Tessa too, and she looks awkward and flustered as she gives him a small courtesy wave. 

“Shut up, Rice.” Scott grunts, turning to follow his team off the ice for the break.

“Is she a good lay? She looks like it. I bet she’s into some kinky stuff. I bet she’d let me spread her wide and spank her. Fuck her so hard she can’t walk.”

Scott spins around, skating up into Declan’s personal space and ready to kill. “You stop talking about her right fucking now. You don’t even _think_ about her.”

“Or what?” Declan sneers and then spits in Scott’s face.

There’s a resounding _crack_ as flesh meets bone and then Declan is on the ground – blood streaming from his nose as he yells profanities. The referee skates over immediately, hauling Scott off the ice by the collar and throwing him out of the game.

The audience is a mixed reaction of cheers and boos, and Scott knows he’s really in for it tonight. His coach is going to be _pissed_. Not only did he get into a fight, but during halftime too – when everybody was supposed to be friends. So much for proving to Tessa that he’s a gentleman and hockey is a reformed sport, Scott thinks with a heavy sigh.

Oh well, he can’t exactly say that he regrets it. Declan had it coming.

 

Surprisingly, his coach's anger dissipates once he gets Scott in his office after the game and asks what happened. All Scott says is the basic gist of Declan's comments, and Patrice nods. "As your coach, I have to say what you did was wrong, immature, and out of line. But as your friend, I have to say well done. The guy's an asshole."

"Couldn't have said it better myself, sir." 

"But seriously, Scott. Don't hit anyone else for a while, okay?" 

Scott promises not to and then heads out into the hallway to go home. Figuring, with no small amount of disappointment, that Tessa had probably left by now.  

           

“So… hockey’s more civilized now, eh?” Scott’s eyes shoot up to see Tessa leaning against the wall across from the locker room, one leg propped up behind her. Kaitlyn is standing next to her with folded arms, looking much less amused.

Scott shrugs, “I guess you were right after all. We’re nothing but a bunch of wild animals.”

Tessa laughs, pushing off the wall to come stand in front of him. “Why did you punch that guy? And why did nobody seem surprised by it?”

“Declan Rice is a grade A jackass.”

“Okay… so you punched him for a personality defect?”

“He… had unchivalrous things to say about someone.” Scott mutters, trying hard not to wilt under Kaitlyn’s intense stare as she watches them interact.  _She really hasn't changed in five years_ \- still very much the Best Friend and designated protector of Tessa. Although now a shiny rock adorns her left hand that would be hard to miss even in the dark. 

Understanding dawns on Tessa’s face and her mouth circles into an O before her eyes soften. She reaches out to graze the red knuckles of his right hand – just a light touch before she pulls away again – but enough to set Scott’s heart racing.

“I see. I’m sorry you got kicked out of the game, but… thank you. You’ve certainly become my knight in shining armor this week, haven’t you?”

“I do what I can.” Scott jokes, the urge to caress her cheek so strong he has to clamp his hands into fists. It’s too soon for that, and there’s no way he’s making a move in front of Kaitlyn. She looks entirely too knowing as she watches them with a little smirk on her face. Like she knows exactly what’s going on in Scott’s head. It’s unnerving.

“I guess we’d better head out. This was fun, for the first half. You play really well.”

“Thank you.” Scott smiles at her, reaching out to run his hand lightly down her arm. "And thanks for coming."

“Sure. I’ll see you on Tuesday.” She gives him a little half-wave and then walks away with Kaitlyn, turning around to wave again before they exit out of the front doors.

All things considered, not a bad Friday night. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Scott!” Dalisay runs up to greet him as soon as she walks through the classroom door, followed closely behind by a beefy, slightly intimidating man. “Scott, this is my boyfriend Raphael Gonzalez. Raphael, this is the guy that convinced me to get back together with you.”

Raphael holds out a hand and Scott takes it, expecting the firm handshake (he forces himself not to wince). “Gracias, amigo. I owe you one.”

“Hey, my pleasure. I’m glad you guys worked it out.”

“I hope you don’t mind, but Raphael’s going to do these last two classes with me. Is that okay?” She sounds genuinely concerned, like Scott might say no, but he just laughs and waves her off. 

“Of course it’s okay. Have fun.”

Dalisay squeezes his arm in gratitude before leading her boyfriend a little ways away and showing him the basics of the box step while they wait for class to start.

Resigned to being alone again, Scott catches Tessa’s eye as she walks in and waves. She’s wearing a black dress tonight, something stretchy that clings to her upper body but hangs loosely around her knees – swaying as she walks.

She waves back, glancing back and forth between him and where Dalisay stands with the other man, before mouthing, “Alone?”

Scott nods and shrugs, holding out his hands helplessly. He watches as she says something to Andrew, gesturing towards Scott, before coming over to talk to him.

“Would you like a partner?”

“That depends. Who’s offering?”

“I happen to know of someone. And I hear she’s pretty good.”

“Really, who?” Scott pretends to look around the room before looking back at Tessa, who’s standing with her hands on her hips, unimpressed. “Oh, you meant _you_. Yeah, I guess that would be okay.”

She hits him lightly on the shoulder and he chuckles. “What are we learning today?”  

 

“Tonight we will be learning the Rumba.” Andrew begins from the front of the classroom. “The basic action in this dance is the box step, which you all know. What we’re going to do is start with our left foot forward, and then take our right foot and step directly to the side and then replace our left foot together with our right. Then take a step back on our right and then directly to the side on our left, stepping together with the right. Changing our weight and again continuing forward on the left and side together back and side together forward. Side together back, and side together forward.” Andrew demonstrates, his hips and and legs moving in one fluid motion, and Scott knows he's in trouble. 

Hockey does not require swaying hips. 

It’s Tessa’s turn to speak now, and she begins addressing the class from Scott’s side. “The Rumba has its origins in Cuba. This is a Latin dance and we can expect to see a lot of hip action. As you’ll see with the bending and straightening of the legs – creating a sort of lateral settling of the hips, as well as somewhat of a figure eight action that begins to happen that gives us that great Cuban motion.” She demonstrates for the class, her hips moving hypnotically, and Scott is transfixed.  He’s not sure he knew hips could move like that, but now that he knows, he wants to touch her. Put his hands on her waist and feel the movement. Preferably as she’s pressed up against him.

“Now let’s try with your partner. Starting in our closed position with your left-to-right handhold somewhere about chin height where it’s comfortable for both of you, and placing your right hand on the lady’s left shoulder blade as the lady places her hand on your right shoulder close to your deltoids. So starting again – left foot forward for the men, right foot back for the ladies.”

They start moving in the slow, quick-quick, slow pattern and Scott can't help but drop his eyes to Tessa's hips. They way they move so fluidly. She makes it look so easy. "Scott, eyes up here."

She sounds amused, and Scott scrambles for an excuse. "Sorry. I'm trying not to step on your feet."

"You're not moving your hips. Here, let me help you." She lets go of his hands and moves hers to his waist, the heat of them soaking through his jeans as she starts to apply pressure - guiding him in a more rhythmic sway. "Remember, this is a Latin dance. You want  _motion_. Think of a figure eight, like I do." She keeps her hands on him as he tries to follow her advice, her eyes watching his movement carefully and biting her lip. He knows she's teaching - that she's trying to be a good instructor and help him learn - but she's basically staring at his crotch and Scott can feel himself start to harden. 

 _Please no. Not now. She'll hate me._ He stares at the ceiling, thinking of roadkill and losing to the Red Wings and mascots - anything to prevent an erection. 

Finally she pulls her hands away, and he swears he's imagining it when her voice comes out a little hoarse. "Very good. See? It's not that hard." 

Her cheeks flood with color and Scott is mortified.  _She noticed_. His fight or flight kicks in and... he laughs. "You're right. It's not that hard." She laughs too, and Scott lets out a deep gust of air. "Shall we continue?" He raises his hands, gesturing for her to take them again, and she does. 

Following her lead, they begin to dance again. Scott can't resist letting his hand slip a little lower on her back. Fingers spreading wide across the thin material of her dress as he steps in a little closer to her. What he really wants is to put his hand on her hip - feel the way she moves - but he knows how she feels about inappropriate dance positions. 

Still, he can't resist applying slight pressure to her back every so often, pulling her in closer and closer as they dance. Until finally when they only have about a foot left in between them she glances up, eyes full of mischief, and says, "Are you trying to get a bad grade? Position is important, Mr. Moir." 

He's pretty sure his gulp can be heard by the entire classroom, and yet no one is looking their way or seems to think anything is amiss. Most of the other students are far too focused on their footwork to care what he and Tessa are doing, but then he sees Andrew out of the corner of his eye - and that man definitely is paying attention. Tessa looks over at him too, and Andrew smirks at her like he knows a secret. She shakes her head almost imperceptibly, before looking away.  _Hmmm_... it's too bad he and Andrew aren't friends - otherwise Scott would be grilling him about what's going on in Tessa's head. 

She steps back to the proper stance and Scott lets her, but he gets his revenge on the increased distance by stroking his thumb back and forth occasionally along her shoulder-blade as they dance. Keeping her aware of his touch - hopefully letting the desire build. 

Tessa clears her throat and attempts a normal, cheery voice - as if nothing is out of the ordinary. "So, any plans for the weekend?" 

"Yeah, we have an away game up in Montreal." 

"Are you going to get thrown out of that one too?" And there's that teasing, tongue-touched smile again. His hands reflexively tighten their hold on her as he tries to maintain control over the near constant urge to kiss her, and she sucks in a little breath. 

"I'm not planning on it, but..." He shrugs helplessly and it helps dispel some of the tension. A delightful little giggle bursts out of her and Scott knows he's grinning like an idiot, but he can't help it. One minute there's enough sexual tension you can cut it with a knife, the next they're both joking and giggling like school children. It's such a wonderfully new combination for him that he doesn't entirely know what to do with it. All he knows is that he wants to kiss her. All kinds of kisses. Passionate ones that lead to something more, and sweet little pecks just to say I love you. 

Scott stops dead in the middle of their dance, standing still like a statue.  _Love_. He did  _not_ just think that. No, no way. It is way too soon. They aren't even dating yet! 

"Scott? Are you alright? You look like you're going to be sick." Concern is written all over her face and her hand has come to rest lightly on his chest as she waits for an answer. Suddenly it's all too much. He steps back a few feet - needing the space. 

"I'm fine. I-"

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, it's ten o'clock and that concludes our penultimate class. Next week Tess and I thought we'd treat you to something fun - the Tango! So come prepared for a little romance! Until then, have an excellent week." 

Saved by the proverbial bell. Scott could kiss Andrew - although that would definitely make things even more awkward with Tessa than they are right now. 

"Are you going to be okay?" She follows him as he goes to collect his coat, and Scott plasters what he hopes is a normal smile on his face and not one that reveals just how much he's freaking out.

"Absolutely positively hunky dory!" She looks at him like he's grown an extra head and Scott thinks maybe he should look in a mirror to check. It's like his brain has short-circuited at the revelation that he may, possibly, slightly, just a little bit be falling in love with her. 

"So... see you next week then, I guess?" 

"Yep! Last class." His voice comes out squeaky and rushed and his feet are itching to run away.

"It is. Better make it count." 

She smiles, eyes betraying the fact that she's still confused by his behavior, and waves goodbye and Scott manages to smother his emotions until he's left the building - terror and happiness at his revelation warring inside his chest.

Happiness ultimately wins, at which point a smile spreads across his face. 

Make it count? Oh, he intends to. 

 


	6. v. tango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kind of got away from me... so enjoy an extra long installment! A conversation finally happens that's been about 5 years coming...
> 
> As always, I'm loving all of your comments <3

** v. tango **

 

“He sent you flowers?” Jordan’s voice sounds impressed through the phone, and suspiciously not surprised. Tessa had called her as soon as the delivery had arrived, needing to talk to someone immediately (and who better than her sister?).

She pinches one of the fuchsia colored lily petals between her thumb and index finger – not her favorite flower. Or color. Or scent. Really there isn’t a thing about the monstrous bouquet that she likes. “Yes. And a note: ‘Tessa, I’m sorry for the way things ended between us. Can we get together and talk? Love, Ryan.’” She drops the card onto the counter with a noise of disgust – glaring at the little paper as if it were the man himself.

“It’s not a bad note, Tess. Maybe it’s worth meeting up with him and hearing what he has to say.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Tessa replies resolutely. “I’ll take these over to Mrs. Kane next door. Her husband’s back in chemo and she could use some cheering up.”

“That’s very nice of you, but you should still talk to Ryan.” Jordan insists. 

“Why are you pushing this? He was a jerk in those last few months and I’m still not convinced that he wasn’t cheating.”

“Okay, total honesty, he came to see me yesterday. Said how much he missed you and what an idiot he was for letting you get away and begging me to find out if you’d give him a second chance.” Jordan confesses, and it only serves to make Tessa dislike Ryan more. She can't believe he went to her sister for help. 

"I think you mean sixth.” Tessa corrects her. After-all, last time they got together Jordan _was_ the one who pointed out how many times she and Ryan had broken up over the years.

“Tess, come on.”

“No, Jordan. I’m sure whatever he said to you was very sweet and probably sounded wonderful, but Ryan was always good at saying the right thing to get what he wanted. I don’t regret breaking up with him and we are never, ever, ever getting back together.”

Jordan laughs. “Quoting the gospel of Swift, eh? I guess that means you’re serious.”

“Like a heart attack.”

“Okay, well I promised him that I’d try. I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain, so if he comes around again I’ll tell him to leave you alone.”

“Thank you.” Tessa relaxes against the counter. Hopefully this will be the end of having to hear from, or about, her ex-boyfriend.

“We still on for Friday night?”

“Yes. I’ll be there, and so will Kaitlyn and Andrew.”

“Great! Oh, this will be so much fun – you’ll see. I’ll see you at eight, don’t be late. And wear something sexy!”

Tessa rolls her eyes and bids her sister farewell. Just because she promised to go dancing doesn’t mean she has to dress up. There’s nothing wrong with jeans and a nice blouse or a t-shirt, depending on her mood. She doesn't plan on staying very late anyway. 

A loud sigh escapes her as she stares at the flowers on her countertop. It was so typical of Ryan to disappear for weeks and then show up – fresh apology on his lips and some sort of extravagant gift. In the early days of their relationship he truly had been a good boyfriend. He appeared to care about her, always made sure to ask her opinion on things, and was _reliable_ , but about six months into it the problems started.

The drinking, the flirting with other women, being rude to her… the list went on and on. They devolved into an on again/off again couple as Ryan spiraled into obscurity. He could never stay in one place longer than a week without growing restless, and Tessa refused to go anywhere with him until she knew she could trust him (a feeling that never came).

It all came to its foregone conclusion three months ago when Tessa had woken up early the morning after he’d arrived back in town and found a text on his phone that said: _I miss you already. Can’t wait until next week when you’re back_.

On its own it wasn’t proof of anything, but in conjunction with his behavior? Well... When he woke up they had the biggest fight they’d ever had – in which he had accused her of being “paranoid” and a “nosy bitch” and Tessa had promptly broken up with him and kicked him out of her house.

Now he’s sending her flowers again and wanting to reconcile, which probably means whoever the other girl was that he’d been seeing had dumped him and he was looking for an easy target.

Well, it wouldn’t be her. Not anymore. With a shout of “So there!” Tessa tears up the card and throws it into the garbage before picking up the vase and marching it over to Mrs. Kane. Hopefully she likes fuchsia.

 

        

Later that evening Tessa sits down at her kitchen table with a warm bowl of chicken noodle soup and the last chapter of _The Goldfinch_ , intending to get it finished before she has to get ready to teach the ballroom dance class.

Her phone buzzes loudly from where it’s resting on the table near her and her first inclination is to ignore it, but when she glances over she sees it’s a text from Scott. “I hope he’s not going to say he can’t come tonight.” She thinks with some trepidation as she picks it up.

 

**Scott:** Hey T! Got a flat tire today so my car’s in the shop. Can I get a ride?

**Scott:** I can promise coffee and good conversation in return.

**Scott:** Maybe even a joke. Knock knock

Smiling as she shakes her head in amusement, Tessa gives in and replies:

 

**Tessa:** Who’s there?

**Scott:** A little old lady

 

**Tessa:** A little old lady who?

 

**Scott:** Wow! I had no idea you could yodel!

 

A laugh breaks free in spite of herself, and Tessa can’t help the surge of affection she feels for him. He’s such a dork, but it’s somehow endearing.

 

**Scott:** Your silence means you laughed. I know you did. Is that a yes?

 

**Tessa:** Yes. Pick you up at 6:30?

 

**Scott:** Perfect. Thanks!

 

Speaking of confusing men, Tessa isn’t sure what exactly Scott is up to these days. She had thought maybe he wanted to be friends – what with the nightly Jeopardy phone calls and the casual invite to the hockey game – but then last week as they danced the rumba he’d had such an intense look on his face, his eyes heated and dark. She can still feel his hand on her back like a phantom touch. The way he’d stroked his thumb against her sends heat flooding through her veins and pooling between her legs every time she thinks about it (and she’s thought about it a lot).

Tonight she and Andrew will be teaching the tango. The idea, back when they had been deciding on the syllabus, was that it would be a fun and memorable way to end the class. Now though, Tessa is reconsidering the wisdom of that choice. The idea of being Scott’s partner and leading him one-on-one in such a tactile dance sends her stomach fluttering.

It doesn’t help that Andrew had insisted that the two of them dress the part tonight to add a little extra flare – an idea which Tessa initially supported, but now that she’s standing in her closet staring at the dress she’s supposed to wear, she’s not so sure.

The top is black lace over a tan bodice and the skirt is flowy red silk that moves beautifully – almost as if independent of its wearer. There’s no denying that it’s gorgeous and it compliments Andrew’s all-black pants and dress shirt combination perfectly, but it’s also much bolder than Tessa would ever normally wear. A shiver of anticipation runs through her at the idea of Scott seeing her in the dress, but a large part of her also wants to forego the costume and wear her familiar athletic shirt and leggings.

 

In the end, she decides to grit her teeth and put on the dress. Completing the look with an artfully mussed side-fishtail braid. She puts on her longest coat so that only a hint of her red skirt is visible around her knees and heads off to pick up Scott.

 

He greets her with a wide smile, a cup of coffee, and a single red rose. "To say thank you for being such a good teacher." He says with a wink. Tessa mentally adds it to the list of his behavior in her head that she calls "Huh????" 

Scott spends most of the ride to the community school talking about the new Wes Anderson movie (after telling her how pretty she looks tonight) and Tessa welcomes the distraction from his flirtation. 

He looks nicer than usual - his jeans look new and she can see the hint of a collared shirt under his coat. If she didn't know better she'd say that he's behaving like this is a date... 

           

When they arrive Tessa enters the room in front of Scott, walking over to greet Andrew while Scott goes to say hi to Dalisay and her boyfriend. She won’t deny the relief she feels there – she’d been so certain that there was something going on between him and the raven-haired beauty that it had made watching them in class the first couple of weeks physically painful.

“Tess! Did you wear your dress?” Andrew greets her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, per usual, and Tessa nods.

“Of course. You look fantastic, by the way.” And he really does. The loose, black shirt with an undone vest combined with the black pants all compliments his dark wavy hair and good looks perfectly.

“I know right? Kaitlyn said I look like the poster for an Latin romance.”

“Definitely. Something with a cheesy name like ‘It Takes Two to Tango.’”

“Where I have an entire dance number.”

“With a singing guitar, because why not?” Tessa jokes, playing along.

They bust up laughing and Andrew reaches out to help remove her coat. “You look gorgeous. That dress suits you.”

Tessa blushes and rolls her eyes at him. “Does that mean I get to be in this romance movie too?”

"Definitely.” Andrew grins. “We’re two dancers in a club who meet a couple of patrons and fall in love. A double love story.”

“Kaitlyn plays your love interest, of course.”

“Of course. She’d skewer me if I gave the part to someone else. But who gets to play your lover, hmm?” He waggles his eyebrows and Tessa giggles awkwardly and absolutely does _not_ look over at Scott.

“He remains uncast, I’m afraid.”

“Maybe for now, but I think there’s someone you have in mind for callbacks.” He winks and then turns around to begin the class.

Tessa follows his lead, and she can feel Scott’s eyes on her. He’s chosen to stand at the front tonight, since she will be his partner again, and his eyes rake over her dress and exposed skin.

She hasn’t had so much on display before and she can see him taking it all in. The heat under her skin is rising and she knows her chest is turning pink (curse her expansive blush) and she tries desperately to keep it under control. It wouldn’t do for the whole class to know what’s going on here. 

“Tonight, as promised, Andrew and I will be teaching you the basics of the Argentine Tango. You may have noticed our special outfits. One of the best parts of the tango, aside from the dance itself, is the chance to express yourself through costuming. Tango is a chance to maximize your masculinity, femininity, or artsiness. The main thing to pay attention to is how an outfit makes you _feel_ – if it gives you joy and makes you want to dance, then it’s a keeper.” She picks up her skirt to swish it around a little to emphasize her point, before turning to Andrew so that he can carry on where she left off.

“Now, as for the dance itself, there are two main things that you want to think about – the ways of leading and following.” Andrew takes her hands in his to demonstrate for the class, exposing her back to Scott and revealing the wide expanse of skin left uncovered by the dress. Tessa swears she hears him inhale.

“First, when you are stepping, you take your partner with you. When I am stepping I am either pushing or pulling to lead her. But I don't do this with my arms, I do it by moving my body and maintaining the connection. The connection between you and your partner is the building block of the Tango – without it, the dance falls apart.” Andrew raises his arms a little to point out all the ways they’re touching. “Maintaining eye contact will help with the connection and ensure you are moving together. As the male, I will be the leading the dance, but I don’t do that with my arms, I do it by either pushing or pulling with my body.”

Tessa picks up again, speaking loudly for the whole class, “As the follower, it is all about understanding and receiving the information through your wrists. So if Andrew was to walk with me, I would feel the pressure through my upper body and that will start right away to give me the energy to start moving my legs. The objective is for Andrew to lead my legs, not to lead my torso. So if I feel pressure, I will start to stretch my leg back or chase his other foot forward and again side to side.”

“Okay, let’s starting practicing with our partners now. I really want you to remember to focus on the connection between you.” Andrew says, releasing Tessa’s hands and moving around the room to help people get into the correct positions, making encouraging comments as he goes. There's a palpable sense of excitement in the room that makes Tessa smile. Yes, the tango was the right choice to finish the class.

Tessa walks over to Scott, whose eyes never leave hers, and she thinks connecting definitely won’t be a problem for them.

“Are you ready?” She asks cheerily, and Scott nods, pulling her in close.

“You look amazing.”

His hand rests on the bare skin of her back and she _really_ should have considered that when she picked out this costume. The feeling makes her want _more_ and that’s dangerous. He reaches up slowly to take her hand in his, eyes following the movement. There’s something incredibly sexy about the way he’s so focused on what they’re doing.

And they haven’t even started moving yet. She is in _trouble_.

“Remember, this dance is 50/50 – men, give her a signal when you’re about to move so that she can feel the energy and do the same. Ladies, pay attention to where your partner shifts your weight. If he shifts his weight and takes a step, you’re not going to change legs until he gives you the next signal. Wait for the push, pull, or pivot.”

Had the instructions for this dance always sounded so... explicit? Tessa hasn't really thought about it before, but now that she's standing in Scott's arms the words  _connection, energy, push, pull_... it all sounds... sexual.

Scott begins to move, counting out _one, two, three, four_ as he steps. His quiet voice blowing puffs of warm air against her ear and raising goosebumps across her skin. They’re standing so close together that their chests are brushing against each other every time one of them takes a deep breath, and Tessa hopes he can't tell that she's not wearing a bra.

“You’re very good at this.” Her voice is mortifyingly husky and low, and Scott grips her a little tighter.

“I’ve been practicing.”

“You have?” She wasn't expecting that. He steps back slightly to look down at her and his face is close enough that all it would take is the slightest raise of her heels to lift her mouth to his… _No! Stop it Tessa!_

“I heard Andrew mention last week that tonight would be the tango, so I watched a few videos. I didn’t want to embarrass you or let you down.”

“No. Never. You couldn’t.” Tessa rushes to reassure him, unconsciously licking her lips, and Scott’s eyes drop to follow the movement of her tongue – pupils dilating.

She finds herself moving her hand slowly up his shoulder to the back of his neck, scratching along the skin there. Helpless to do anything but let her hand take what it wants. Scott’s eyelids flutter closed and a deep moan rumbles through his chest – quiet enough that she’s probably the only one who heard it, but loud enough to snap her out of what she’s doing.

“Sorry.” She’s not sure why she whispers, but then Scott’s fingernails scratch her back slightly in retaliation and it’s her turn to moan.

“Sorry.” Scott copies her, but he doesn’t look sorry at all. He looks like he’s seconds from dragging her off to find a coat closet.

Andrew claps his hands together loudly from somewhere off to her right and Tessa jumps, putting some space between her and Scott and trying to clear the lusty fog from her brain.

“We’re going to try a simple leg wrap now. Tess?” He holds out a hand for her and Tessa steps away from Scott to join him so that they can demonstrate. Loving the way Scott lets his hand caress her back and arm as she goes.

“It goes like this: you're going to give her a back ochos feeling, or a boleo feeling in this case - insert the leg between hers and she's going to meet it and do a leg wrap here.  You step into it for it to be clear.  Let's take a look at it from this perspective." He turns to the side so that the class can see better. "I step around and bend my knee, now I lean into her leg so that she's wrapping her leg around mine.  In order to get out of this we're going to step into the foot, try not to force the lady to move, but rather step your weight onto that leg and she will realize that she has to move the foot out of the way.”

They demonstrate the move a few times before Tessa speaks up to give the woman’s perspective. “In order to feel these leads, the sensations are like this: I know that it's a boleo feeling or a back ocho and I know to extend my leg because my partner has changed his level so I know to stretch my leg back.  As I come around, I know to maintain myself on that level because his knees are still bent.  Here I make contact with his upper leg. I know to begin to wrap because he starts to transfer weight - he starts to move over to his right leg and there I can create a little wrap.  As he transfers all the weight I quickly take my legs out by bringing them together and we're ready for the next step.”

“Make sure that after you leave the boleo back around here you bring your leg close to her standing leg so that she can be in balance.  You shouldn't have to look at any of these things, you just have to feel. Tango is all about feeling. What you want to do is touch her leg with yours and she will be able to wrap.  If you don't, she's going to be off balance.”

Andrew releases Tessa so that she can go back to Scott and turns on some music – a classic romantic tango piece that sets the mood.

She takes Scott’s hand again and tries not to get drawn in by his magnetic pull this time – focusing on giving him advice and walking him through the steps and how to lead her into a leg wrap. After-all, she’s supposed to be teaching him how to dance, not thinking about making out with him.

He guides her into the turn before bringing her back around so that her leg wraps around his as the dance dictates, but this time he does it at a faster pace – pulling her in so that her forehead is almost touching his – and her breath catches in her throat.

Scott is _so close_. She can feel every breath he takes, practically drowns in the dark pools that his eyes have become. Her own breathing turns ragged as the hand on her back moves so that his fingers are splayed wide, fingertips digging in slightly.

She pulls his thigh in between her legs a little bit more than is proper, and he exhales sharply through his nose. The air around them is charged and Tessa feels as if she stands at the edge of a cliff – just the slightest pressure and she’ll tumble over the edge.

“Wow, Tess. You’ve really taught your student well.” Andrew is grinning like a Cheshire cat and Tessa untangles herself from Scott with a groan. He’s definitely going to tell Kaitlyn, and she’s never going to hear the end of it.

“He’s a quick learner.” She glares at Andrew, but secretly she’s relieved. If they’d been left alone for a moment longer, she’s not sure what she would have done – something she’d regret, probably.

“It’s ten o'clock, so we have to end the class. I hope Scott won’t mind if I steal you for a second?”

“Not at all. As long as you give her back.” Tessa glances at Scott to find him watching her with the same heated expression. Apparently _he_ doesn’t care that Andrew is going to torment her forever about this. Accompanied by endless teasing from his fiancée.

 

\--------

 

The drive back to Scott’s apartment is quiet. Too quiet. Tessa turns on the radio just to fill the silence – switching around between stations in an attempt to find something innocuous. _Why is every song about love?_ She mentally grumbles.

“Ooh, keep it on this one. I like it.”

“Are you serious?” She gives him a _you must be joking_ look, to which he waggles his eyebrows in challenge and starts singing at the top of his lungs.

“I came in like a WRECKING BALL! I never hit so HARD IN LOVE!”

Tessa lets out a loud, unattractive squeal of laughter. “Scott! No-STOP! SCOTT!”

“Come on, T! All I wanted was to BREAK YOUR WALLS! All you ever did was bre-e-eak me!”

“Oh my God, you’re the worst.” She’s still laughing, a little snort sneaking out – which makes Scott just grin wider as he continues to sing.

He continues to sing along to all the songs until they reach his apartment, and by the time they get there Tessa’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. He’s not particularly _good_ , but what he lacks in talent he definitely makes up for in enthusiasm.

“Do you want to come inside? I’ve got hot chocolate.” He gives her a boyish grin and her stomach does a cartwheel. _Is this a good idea?_

“Okay.” She gives in, heart growing warm when the look he gives her is pure happiness.

She’s not going to sleep with him. She’s _not_. But some cocoa sounds nice and they’ve been having such a good night that she doesn’t want it to end.

Scott leads her inside the building, a modern structure with mostly glass walls, and up to the second level to his front door, opening it wide and gesturing for her to enter first.

The entryway isn’t very large and there’s a staircase directly on the right side that takes up a bit of space, but Tessa can see that the hallway widens into a large open room. The floor is a light-colored sandalwood and the walls are ivory - making the whole place feel bright and inviting. As she walks into the main living space it becomes obvious that this is a bachelor’s pad – but a _nice_ bachelor’s pad. It must cost a fortune, which he can probably afford on his NHL salary. There’s a giant, cream-colored couch in front of the biggest TV she’s ever seen and although there’s a dining table on the far side, it’s obvious the island with its barstools sees more use.

The entire far wall is made of glass, giving her the perfect view of Toronto at night, and Tessa decides she loves it. The whole place seems very _Scott_. Especially the sports and classic movie posters on the walls. She glimpses a familiar book out of the corner of her eye, pursing her lips together to prevent herself from smiling as she recognizes _The Goldfinch_.

“Alright, first things first, hot chocolate.” He busies himself in the kitchen and Tessa takes the time to look at the personal photos on his wall. There’s a team photo and she spots Scott quickly on the right side with his arm around the shoulders of a fellow teammate that she thinks is named Peter or Paul or Patrick or something with a P.

The other photos are presumably ones of his family – Scott with two other men that look too similar not to be his brothers, an older couple that must be his parents. She can see the similarities with his mom especially.

“Here you go. Hot and ready. Do you still like marshmallows?”

She accepts the warm mug gratefully and nods.

“Thought so.” He opens his hand and drops in a few with a plop.

Tessa watches the droplets of cocoa splash out, noticing the designs on the side of the mug for the first time. They look child-made - stars and circles and  _Uncle Scottie_ written in scribbly red writing.

“My nephew made that for me for Christmas last year. My brother’s teaching all his kids to call me Scottie because he knows I hate it.” He rolls his eyes and leads her over to the couch.

“I like it. The mug, I mean. It’s cute.” He smiles at her as she settles in and this is starting to feel awfully familiar. “So you’re pretty close to your family?”

“Yeah. Sometimes _too_ close.” He jokes, nudging her knee with his. “How about you?”

“Oh, I have two brothers and a sister. We’re close, but don’t all get together as much as we used to. Not since my parent’s divorce.”

“I’m sorry.” He says earnestly, rubbing her leg in sympathy, and Tessa really wishes he wouldn’t do that. _Not sleeping with him!_ “Every time I go home to Ilderton and we all get together it’s like living in a zoo. So. Many. Moirs.”

“You’re from Ilderton? How did I not know that!?”

“You've heard of it?”

“I’m from London.”

Scott huffs out a laugh, shaking his head in surprise. “Small world, eh? Can’t believe we never met until…”

“Until we were adults.” Tessa finishes for him, not wanting to go down that _particular_ memory lane right now.

At some point he’d undone a few of the buttons at the top of his shirt, likely in an attempt to be more comfortable, but it doesn’t help her resolve not to jump his bones. The little sliver of skin that’s visible is enough to get her pulse racing.

God, it’s been way too long since she’s had sex.

She takes a big gulp of her cocoa as a distraction – forgetting its temperature and scalding her tongue.

“Tess, are you alright?!” Scott asks in alarm, patting her on the back as she doubles over in a choking fit.

“Hot!” Is all she can manage, eyes watering. _Well done, Tessa, mood effectively killed_.

As soon as she can manage to talk again, trying desperately to keep her voice normal as Scott continues to rub soothing circles on her back, she says, “I’m fine, thank you. You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you.” He sits up a little straighter - looking bashful, but proud. “I just had it remodeled. Do you want to see the rest of it?”

Is that a line? It felt like a line. _Oh God, it was a line_.

Tessa opens her mouth to reply, but instead of saying something innocuous like, “That would be nice,” she hears herself say, “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

 

Scott blanches and then looks angry and hurt. “I wasn’t trying to _seduce_ you, I just wanted to show you my house.”

Great. Of course he wasn’t. She’s read this all wrong and now she feels like an idiot. He probably doesn’t even _think_ of her like that. Mortification sets in, hard and fast.

“Right. Right! I know that. Sorry. I don’t know why I even said that. I mean, it’s not like you’re not attractive or that I’m not, like, you know, _attracted_ to you. You’re good looking and funny and great! I just don’t want to be another one night stand… again. _Not_ that you were offering, because you weren’t. I know.”

She can tell as soon as her mouth closes – finally bringing an end to her embarrassing rambling – that she’s said the wrong thing.

“ _Another-_ That’s what you think?” He’s definitely mad now, but Tessa isn’t completely sure why (she apologized for her assumption, didn’t she?). It puts her on the defensive.

“Well that’s all I was five years ago!”

And it’s true. Hadn’t he done this same thing then? Invited her to his home, seduced her with chocolate (her weakness) and heartfelt conversation, then wham bam thank you ma’am – the night was over and she was going home in the middle of night missing one of her socks.

“I-“ His hands grip his knees and he can’t seem to look at her – his face stormy as he tries to keep ahold of his emotions.

He opens his mouth to try to say something again, but then closes it – shaking his head and scoffing. His jaw is clenched so tightly she can see the muscle flexing.

_Oh no. He’s hot when he’s angry –_ her traitorous brain thinks, making her blush even as she holds her ground.

Suddenly he’s on his feet and walking out the door, slamming it loudly behind him.

 

It’s an awkward situation, sitting on someone’s couch after they’ve walked out on you, and Tessa has no idea what to do. She waits in the uncomfortable silence for a few seconds before it gets to be too much – jumping to her feet,she turns to leave. _So much for being friends_ , _good job, Tessa._

She starts to walk towards the door, but then her purse drops to the floor with a thud as the door reopens and Scott comes marching back in. Looking slightly more in control of his emotions and determined.

“Okay, we need to talk about this because clearly there’s been a misunderstanding. You were never just a one night stand or a quick fuck or whatever else you’ve been thinking for the last five years. Not for one moment. Is that all I was to you?”

He stares at her, breathing heavily like he’s just run a marathon, waiting for her response.

“No.” She protests. How could _he_ think that _she_ is the one who didn’t care? This is all backwards.

“Then why did you leave?”

She can tell he’s hurt, but he also still sounds angry, which seems incredibly unfair. “Why didn’t you ask me to stay?” She snaps back.

He looks at her with wide eyes. “What?”

There. She’s taken him by surprise now and gained the upper hand. And it’s like the dam inside her bursts – pent up emotions releasing all at once. “We were having a great night and I felt this amazing connection to you, and I thought you felt it too, so I went to your place with you and we had the best sex of my life and then you just… rolled off me and didn’t say anything and I’d never had a one night stand before, Scott! I didn’t know what to do or the proper protocols – so I assumed that was a sign that I was supposed to leave. So I got up and got dressed and you just _watched_ me, not saying a word. All you had to do was ask me to stay and I would have! But you didn’t!”

Scott lets her unload on him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. It would be comical, if Tessa hadn’t just worked herself up into a frenzy.

“I… I just thought you weren’t into me, or that you really did need to go home for your midterm. I didn’t want to pressure you. It never occurred to me… God, we’re so stupid.”

“Excuse me?” The fight has gone out of her a little now that she’s finally spoken her mind, and his voice is so soft it forces her to pause and pay attention.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true. Five years. _Five years_. Because neither of us opened our mouths and just admitted that we liked each other.” He runs his hand through his hair and Tessa remains silent. She’s not angry at all anymore, and she doesn’t think he is either.

“I looked for you, you know.” He admits quietly, and Tessa’s eyes shoot up to meet his.

“You did?”

“Yeah. At the bar the next day and a few days after that.”

“Oh. I never went back there. I was too embarrassed.”

They both go quiet and Tessa scrambles to think of something, anything, to fill the silence.

“Let’s start again.” Scott finally says, walking back towards her with his hand extended. “Tessa Virtue, my name is Scott Moir and I really, really like you. Can I take you out to dinner Friday night?”

Tessa blushes under his warm, hopeful gaze. He’s standing close enough now to reach out and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear – his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Yes.”

He grins, but then Tessa remembers.

“Or actually, no.”

His smile falls and he pulls his hand away, but she reaches out quickly to grab it with her own. “I promised my sister that we would go out Friday night. But you should come! We’re going dancing at Uniun Nightclub, and I happen to know for a fact that you can dance now.”

The smile returns to his face and Tessa feels relieved to see it there. She likes being the cause of his happiness.

“Well, with an offer like that, how could I refuse? I’ll be there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than I'm used to - sorry if there are any glaring typos.


	7. +1. good kisser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that thing I said about last chapter being long? Yeah... this one's even longer, and it's about 75% smut. Oops!
> 
> If you're here reading this, thank you for reading my story. Hopefully you've enjoyed it. I had no idea what it would be when I started and I'm thrilled with where it's taken me. I'm planning on playing around in this universe some more with one-shots, etc. 
> 
> As always, thank you for your comments, kudos, kind thoughts, or just reading at all. <3

** +1. good kisser **

 

“No. No, no, no, absolutely not.”

The door is barely open before Kaitlyn and Andrew are marching into her house. Kaitlyn immediately takes issue with her outfit choice while Andrew heads straight for the kitchen – arms laden with cooking supplies. He’d promised to make dinner tonight before they went out, and by now knows enough about Tessa not to expect that any ingredients or utensils will be available. 

“You are not wearing that ratty Hall & Oates t-shirt to Uniun. I refuse.”

Tessa crosses her arms over her chest defensively. “What’s wrong with this shirt? It’s comfortable!”

“Um, what’s wrong? We’re going dancing at a club. I’m not sure they’d even let you in.” Kaitlyn scoffs. 

"Well what are _you_ wearing?” 

“I’m glad you asked!” She removes her coat with a flourish, revealing a blush colored silky slip dress underneath. It looks absolutely amazing, and Tessa realizes she’s right – there’s no way she can show up to a club in a t-shirt and leggings next to THAT.

"Wow. You look beautiful, Kait." 

"Thank you." She does a graceful little curtsy and Tessa gives in. 

“Fine. Point taken. Come help me find something to wear.” Her sigh is hyperbolic and Kaitlyn doesn't believe it for a second. 

She places her hand over her heart dramatically. “My favorite words to hear.”

With a little wave and blown kiss for Andrew, Kaitlyn practically pushes Tessa up the stairs and down the hall towards Tessa's bedroom.

 

“First things first: pants or dress?” Her voice is muffled from where she’s buried herself in Tessa’s walk-in closet. Tessa sits on the edge of her bed, scrolling through Instagram, resigned to wearing whatever Kaitlyn picks out for her.

“Pants?”

There are sounds of drawers being opened and closed and hangers being pushed around before Kaitlyn finally emerges holding up a pair of black jeggings and a sparkly red halter top that Tessa didn’t even know she owned.

"Where did you find that?” Her voice sounds horrified and Kaitlyn rolls her eyes at her dramatics. 

“Buried in a drawer with past Halloween costumes. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this for so long.” She tosses it over to her, and Tessa holds it up for a better look.

“Can you blame me? It barely even has a back! I can’t wear this.” Tessa throws it back, and Kaitlyn catches it easily.

“It’s your choice, of course, but I think it’ll look really hot on you. And how often do we get a chance to go out like this and dance for fun, instead of for work?”

“Kaitlyn… Scott’s coming tonight. I can’t wear this in front of him.” She whines, giving Kaitlyn her best puppy-eyes. 

“Shut. Up. Why didn’t you tell me!?” Kaitlyn squeals, running over and jumping on the bed. “Is this a date? Are you two finally happening?”

“Calm down.” Tessa chuckles. “It’s _kind of_ a date. He asked me to dinner, but I said I couldn’t go because we already had plans, and then I invited him along. It’s more of a casual thing.” She tries to convince herself that it’s totally not a big deal. Otherwise she’ll start freaking out and that never ends well.

“So that settles it then, you have to wear this top. He’s going to die when he sees you in it.”

“I don’t think that’s exactly the reaction I’m going for.” Tessa deadpans and Kaitlyn hits her lightly on the arm.

“You know what I mean. Put it on and you’ll see.”

“Tessa! Please tell me you have salt somewhere!” Andrew’s voice calls up from the bottom of the stairs and both girls laugh.

"I’ll go help him. At least try it on.” She nods once more to the shimmering fabric before leaving to help her fiancé prepare their meal, and Tessa sighs.

Well, Kaitlyn’s right. She might as well try it on and at least see what it looks like.

Once she’s assembled the entire outfit, Tessa takes a deep breath and steps in front of the mirror – opening her eyes a millimeter at a time.

 _Whoa_. It’s by far the boldest thing she’s ever worn. Completely outside of her comfort zone. She wants to wrap her arms around herself to cover up her midriff, but… it _is_ pretty hot. Her abs are on display, including her bellybutton ring (wonder what Scott will think about that?), and the top compared with the jeans makes her look like a totally new version of herself.

A sexy, confident Tessa ready to dance and break hearts. Maybe if she treats it like getting into costume it won’t be so bad.

She pulls her hair up into a high ponytail and applies heavier make-up than normal - focusing on getting her smoky eyes just right. She hums the _Habanera_ – the song she’d been teaching her older students to dance to this week - and thinks of Carmen and her spirit and presence on stage. And that decides it. She’ll wear the top and think of herself as Carmen and hopefully make it through the night unscathed and without too much embarrassment.

 

“Pass the potatoes please. Andrew, this is delicious.” Tessa says, her plate full of delicious roast chicken and grilled asparagus. She loves nights when Andrew offers to cook for them – especially because Tessa hates cooking herself. Back when she and Kaitlyn were roommates and shared this townhouse he would cook for them all the time – trying to impress his girlfriend – but now that they live together these moments have become far and few between and Tessa cherishes them even more.

"Did you know that Tessa invited Scott?” Kaitlyn says as she hands over the dish, nearly causing Tessa to drop it. This would be the one reason she _doesn’t_ miss frequent friend dinners. Kaitlyn always manages to out one of her secrets.

“Scott?” Andrew looks at Tessa in confusion. _Oh, right, he doesn’t know_. “The guy you flirted with in our dance class?”

“I didn’t not flirt.” Tessa grumbles, stuffing her mouth with garlic potatoes and avoiding looking at either of them.

“Yeah, you did.” Andrew says matter-of-factly.

“Whatever. Yes, he’s coming, but it’s no big deal.” Tessa says emphatically, shooting Kaitlyn daggers with her eyes. Her traitorous friend just grins back.

“I think our Tessa has a bit of a crush, my love.”

“Hmmm. I can’t wait to meet him officially then. Gotta give him the talk.”

“Please don’t.” Tessa begs and Andrew winks. God, these two will be the death of her she swears. “The last time you gave the talk to a guy I went on a date with he never called again.”

“Ha! Proof that he didn’t deserve you. Don’t worry, Tess. I’ll make sure this guy’s up to scratch.”

Tessa lets out a weary sigh. Only three more hours until she can fake an illness, leave the club, and settle in with a movie in her bed. Probably _Pride & Prejudice_. And probably a glass of wine. She’s going to need it.

 

She wears her favorite leather jacket zipped up over her shirt as they head off to the club – both to ward off the cold air of the Toronto night, and to keep herself hidden for as long as possible. The closer they get the more she feels her bravado fading.

They arrive at the club a little after eight to find it already packed wall to wall with dancing people in varying states of sobriety. Apparently Uniun is The Place to Be. Thankfully Jordan had reserved them one of the large booths along the wall, otherwise it would be miserable.

Tessa, who has always been introverted, starts a mental countdown. She has about two hours of this in her system before she’ll need Alone Time to recuperate, and the clock starts now.

“Tess, Kaitie, Drew! So glad you all could make it!” Jordan, already into her second or third Shirley Temple, jumps up to give them all hugs. Her tight leather mini dress clinging to her lithe body in all the right ways and causing some nearby heads to turn. “These are my friends from work – Doug, Mateo, Molly, and Steph.” She points to each of the people currently seated individually and Tessa waves – vaguely recognizing them from the ballet. “Now that you're finally here we can do shots! Whoo!”

“Oh no, Jojo. I don’t do shots and you know it.” Tessa complains as Jordan pushes her shoulder down into the booth.

“Tonight you do.” Jordan says with a grin, somehow managing to get the attention of a waiter in this chaos.

The first round is some concoction called a Birthday Cake that tastes nothing like the Nutella flavor Jordan had promised – apparently chosen in honor of Molly, who is turning twenty-three, and Tessa fulfills her obligation by downing it in one go. Cringing at the aftertaste. Give her a nice red wine over that any day.

“We’re going to go dance!” Kaitlyn yells and she and Andrew disappear into the crowd.

“Do you want to dance too?” Doug asks her, looking at Jordan first (who gives him a little nod). Uh oh. This is a set-up. She should have known.

Tessa shakes her head and smiles kindly, but refuses. Steadfastly ignoring Jordan’s disappointed face. She watches everyone else dance and sips on a simple Cape Cod while she waits for Scott. The minutes tick by and she starts to worry that maybe he isn’t going to show.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Parking was a nightmare.”

She looks up from her drink to see Scott standing next to the booth, hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets as he smiles apologetically down at her.

“Hey no worries. I’m glad you could make it.” She slides over to give him room to sit down, and he takes off his coat before he does – revealing an unbuttoned grey shirt with rolled up sleeves hanging open over a black t-shirt.

Sometimes Tessa forgets how attractive he is and then she sees him and it hits her all over again like a sledge hammer. She wants to run her hands all over him – instead she grips her knees and keeps her hands firmly planted there.  _Control yourself, Tessa Virtue!_

He drops his arm around her like it’s nothing and leans in close so that she can hear him over the crowd. “How are you, T? Did you have a good week?”

A totally innocuous, friendly question, but the way his lips brush her ear as he asks it sends a shiver up her spine. Jordan watches them curiously from across the small coffee table and Tessa is too embarrassed to make eye contact. 

"Yeah, I did. How about you?”

"Pretty good. My coach said my footwork’s really improved over the last five weeks, so thank you for that.”

“You did all the work.”

“Hardly. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He squeezes her shoulder in a tight side hug and Tessa wishes she could hug him for real – somehow hugging Scott is arousing and soothing at the same time, and she knows she could get drunk on that feeling alone.

“We haven’t been introduced. I’m Jordan.” Jordan holds her hand out in front of Scott’s face, having come around to perform a closer inspection. 

“Tessa’s mentioned you.” Scott says congenially, shaking her hand. “You guys definitely look like sisters. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Scott Moir.”

“I _thought_ you looked familiar!” Mateo says loudly from the other end of the couch. “Great job last weekend in Montreal, man. The Leafs are lucky to have you.”

“Thanks!”

“How exactly does a hockey player know my baby sister?” Jordan squints her eyes, looking suspicious. Which isn’t unfounded – the odds of Tessa knowing a hockey player are pretty slim considering she only went to her first professional game two weeks ago. Still, Tessa fidgets under her sister's scrutiny.

“She was my dance teacher.” Scott says proudly, jostling Tessa a little as he adds, “The best one I could have asked for.”

“I’ll make sure not to tell Andrew you said that.” Tessa jokes and Scott grins at her.

          

_So tell me what you want, what you really really want!_

 

The clubs goes insane as the classic Spice Girls song starts up and Jordan screams along with them. “Tess, it’s our song! Get up now – we’re dancing!”

Tessa lets herself be pulled out of her seat by her inebriated sister, knowing that resistance is futile. “Take your coat off, let’s go!”

Time to face the music, both metaphorically and literally. With a deep breath Tessa faces Jordan as she unzips the leather and shrugs it off her shoulders, only turning around at the last moment, and in a surge of brazenness she tosses it at Scott. “Be right back.” 

She winks at him, confidence soaring as she sees the expression on his face - his eyes raking over her body. If she adds a little more sway to her hips as she leaves to dance, well, who could blame her?

 

\-------

 

Scott watches Tessa walk away with her sister into the crowd of women who have all lost their minds at the song. He’s pretty sure his brain stopped functioning the second she’d taken off her jacket and thrown it at him. It was the sexiest fucking thing he’d seen in his life and it had come out of nowhere.

He watches her dance with Jordan – bouncing around like a teenager again (what is it with girls and Wannabe?) – taking in the creamy expanse of her back. So much pale skin on display.  The lights flash across her turning her back into a kaleidoscope canvas. It's mesmerizing and hypnotic and Scott feels himself being pulled in. 

He’s just getting a handle on his arousal when she turns around, a flash of silver visible in the center of her stomach, and the battle is lost. All the blood in his system rushes to his dick as he realizes _Tessa has a bellybutton ring_. He wants his tongue on it immediately.

The song fades out and the familiar beat of Good Kisser by Usher begins. Scott half expects Tessa to stop dancing and come sit back down, but instead she surprises him by staying where she is. Her body moves perfectly on beat to the song as she finds her confidence and Scott nearly swallows his own tongue when she runs her hands up her body and the lyrics sing out:

 

_Don't nobody kiss it like you_

_Don't nobody kiss it like you, don't nobody kiss it like you, ba-baby_

Tessa’s eyes are closed as she moves and so she doesn’t see the man inching towards her – clearly intending to join her dance – but Scott sees him, and that simply won’t do.

He shoots to his feet, taking off his outer layer so that he’s left in just the t-shirt – which also becomes a veritable stained glass of color under all the pulsing lights of the club - and practically jogs over to join her. 

His hands find Tessa’s waist easily as he steps in close behind her. At first she jumps in protest and tries to break free, but as soon as she realizes it’s him she sinks into his body and begins to move again. His hands spread out across her stomach, fingertips grazing the top of her pants, and lightning shoots across the room (a cool visual trick that Scott would be more curious about if he wasn’t completely consumed by the woman in front of him).

She pretends to pull away and Scott grips her waist, tugging her back into him and spinning her around – letting his hands graze her ass as she moves. Tessa brings her arms up to wrap around his head, fingers scratching at his scalp as she smiles at him and the feeling goes straight to his dick. Her green eyes are full of wicked promises that he wants to fulfill.

He pulls her thigh up around his hip and she runs her hand down his face – moving in close as if to kiss him and then pulling away again.  _Tease_. He follows her movements, letting her dictate the dance – mouthing the lyrics along with the song and watching her with hooded eyes.

She runs her hand down his chest and Scott grabs her wrist before she can move it away again – using the momentum of her dancing to tug her up close against his body and grabbing her ass more boldly this time so that he can thrust against her. Just once, but enough that her mouth drops open and the look she gives him is pure sex. They're standing so close together that he can hardly tell where he ends and she begins, and yet he wants to be even closer. She is  _intoxicating_. 

He keeps ahold of her wrist even as she twists around behind him - reaching around his sides to run her hands up and down his chest while pushing into him from behind. He can feel her breasts against his back and it's achingly obvious that she isn't wearing any sort of bra. He’s so hard right now it’s almost embarrassing, but the club is so dark and crowded that he’s certain nobody notices or cares.

As the music starts to reach its end Scott pulls her around in front of him again and she dips herself backwards – his mouth finds her shoulder as soon as she comes up again, and he can’t resist biting it just slightly. Her hands grab the side of his face in response, pulling his head up, and as the music ends Scott finds Tessa’s forehead pressed against his – the two of them breathing heavily. Their lips grazing each other in their proximity, without actually kissing. 

“Wow.” He finally manages to say and Tessa lets out a deep, throaty laugh as she smiles at him.

“I'll say. I guess I'm a better teacher than I thought.”

He knows it's meant to be a joke, but she still holds his face and her red mouth is _right there_  and Scott simply has to kiss her. He looks her in the eye, hoping his intentions are clear, before closing the distance between them.

Another flash of the fake lighting shoots across the ceiling and Scott feels it in his body as their lips meet. There’s nothing gentle or tentative about it – he kisses her hard, conveying five years of pent up desire, and she gives as good as she gets, using her hands to angle his head so that she can slant her mouth against his at a better angle. 

His hands spread out across her back, digging in as he holds onto her like she’s a life-vest and he’s drowning. Which he supposes he kind of is. Drowning in her. But, oh, what a way to go.

Tessa’s hands bury themselves in his hair as she returns each of his kisses, and when he bites down on her bottom lip they tug at the roots almost painfully, heightening each sensation.

When they finally separate for air, Scott keeps his tight hold on her as he says, “Tess, just so we’re on the same page this time, I would like you to know that I want you. I want you to come back to my place, at which we can do as much or as little as you’re comfortable with, then I want you to stay over, and in the morning I want to make you chocolate chip pancakes. What do _you_ want?”

He has to know. Can’t risk there being any misunderstanding this time. He’ll be twenty-seven this year and he’s pretty sure Tessa is it for him from here on out, so there's no way he's going to make the same mistakes as last time and lose her again.

“I want…” Tessa takes in a big breath, and the suspense is nearly killing him. “I want all that too. Especially the pancakes.” She finishes with a smile and Scott is euphoric.

“Do you want to stay and dance for a while, or…?” Scott isn’t sure how to stay this tactfully, but now that she’s said yes he really doesn’t want to stay in this crowded club one moment longer when they could be (hopefully) doing their own private dance at his house.

“…Or we could leave now.” Tessa nods and takes his hand, dragging him in the direction of their coats.

They pass Kaitlyn and Andrew grinding it out as they leave, and Tessa stops to answer Kaitlyn’s question about where they’re going. Andrew stares him down like Scott’s the villain in a Bond movie and it does the intended job of scaring him a little. He gets the message – hurt Tessa and you’re a dead man. Good thing he doesn't intend to.

“I guess we’ll have to come up with something other than toons now.” He hears Kaitlyn say, eliciting a laugh from Tessa, and Scott wonders why they’re discussing cartoons right _now_ and if maybe that conversation can possibly wait until tomorrow.

But then her hand is in his again and they’re heading towards his car (he’s glad he didn’t have anything to drink tonight) and all thoughts of anyone or anything other than Tessa fly out the window.

 

 

“So… do you want a drink or anything?” Scott asks as soon as he’s closed his front door behind them, the silence and sudden weight of what he hopes they’re about to do settling over them like a blanket.

Tessa turns around and starts walking backwards slowly towards the stairs. “No. I want you to show me your remodel.”

And that’s an invitation if ever he heard one. The mood is back in full force and Scott walks up to her and kisses her again – pushing her back into the wall at the bottom of the stairs so that he can get more leverage.

Their hands bump into each other repeatedly in their haste to remove one another’s coats, and Tessa makes a noise of frustration when she sees his button up. “Why are you wearing so many layers?” She bemoans, nipping along his jaw as she shoves the fabric down off his arms and lets it drop to the floor.

“Not all of us can rock a sparkly halter top like you can.” Scott teases, sucking a mark into her collarbone that a primitive part of him hopes will last for days. She whimpers as he sucks another mark into her neck just under her ear and brings her leg up to wrap around his waist, grinding against his thigh. Through their jeans they can barely create any friction, but it's still enough that Scott moans into her skin.

The second she starts grinding against him with more intent Scott steps away. “Hang on. I don’t want to do this here. Let’s go upstairs.”

Taking her hand in his, he leads her up the staircase and towards his bedroom – focusing hard on not turning around and pushing her against a wall again. She keeps her other hand on his back, rubbing up and down and grazing his ass every once in a while and it’s all Scott can do to keep his breathing normal.

His bedroom is the same color scheme as the rest of the house, the far wall also completely made of glass, and Scott's target is the king-sized bed in the center . It’s reaching the bed that’s his main focus right now as Tessa, impatient apparently and no longer willing to wait, starts unbuckling his pants.

But now that they’re here, after so many years, Scott doesn’t want this to be rushed. He wants to take his time. Prove to her that she’s so much more than a one night stand. That she deserves to be cherished.

So he stops her and moves her hands to rest by her side. She pouts at him – which is just too adorable for him not to lean in and kiss her – but he stops her from deepening the kiss and turns her around instead.

"Scott, what are you doing?" She whimpers as he trails his fingers down her spine, taking the time to map out her freckles again. He’d forgotten the details of each constellation over the years, and wants to re-memorize them. When he reaches the band holding her shirt together, he unbuckles it slowly – leaning forward to run his lips across the skin of her shoulder and neck in an open-mouthed almost-kiss that leaves her hot and bothered and wanting more.

As soon as her shirt is loose, he slide is hands around her stomach and then up – running his thumbs along the underside of her breasts before moving them back down again. Tessa’s head falls back to rest on his shoulder and her eyes are closed as she basks in his attentions, arching her chest out a little bit. Scott knows what she wants, but he doesn't give it to her. Not yet.

He unclips the clasp around her neck and the shirt falls to the floor. “You’re gorgeous. So, so beautiful T. I could look at you for days.” He whispers as his hands glide up her stomach again - this time cupping her breasts and lightly pinching her nipples. 

" _Scott_." She's practically panting now, and he drops his hands so that he can lead her over to the bed.

Tessa pushes a majority of the pillows off onto the floor before lying back, propped up on her elbows. “I hope you’ll do more than look.” She sounds confident, but the way the blush spreads down her chest tells Scott that she’s just as affected as he is, and maybe a little nervous too. It strengthens his commitment to going slow. Doing this  _right_. 

He pulls her jeans off, marveling at the stretchy material. He was expecting harder work. “They’re called jeggings.” Tessa says with a laugh as he tosses them somewhere behind his head and crawls over her, kissing up her stomach and sternum as he goes.

“This isn’t fair.” She complains as he kisses her neck again – a spot that’s rapidly becoming his favorite place. “I’m practically naked and you still have all your clothes on.”

“Patience, T.” Scott nips at her skin.

She lays back, relaxing under his ministrations, and moves her arms up over her head – giving him full access to take what he wants. Scott lays on his side next to her so that his right arm is free to reach everything he wants to, and slowly runs the back of his fingers up her body – from her thigh, over her stomach, lightly grazing across her breasts. Finally coming to rest on her neck, his thumb stroking over her throat with just the slightest pressure, and Tessa's eyes roll back in pleasure.  _Interesting_. 

His mouth moves in reverse. Placing soft kisses down her chest and stomach, over her bellybutton ring, then back up to her neck. Her hands are making a mess of his hair as she makes all sorts of delightful little noises in the back of her throat, and Scott loves it. Loves the reactions he can elicit from her body. 

He moves back up to kiss her, keeping his right hand in constant motion while they make-out, scratching gently up and down her stomach, moving further down the inside of her thigh, not quite touching her where she wants him to yet – while his left hand holds onto her hair at the top of her head.

Tessa rolls into him slightly, granting him the opportunity to run his hand down her back from her shoulderblade to her waist, continuing over her ass. She raises up further to roll them over, and Scott lets her, gently pulling her hair away from her face so he can keep kissing her.

She begins grinding herself against his erection, still covered by his jeans, and Scott lets out a loud moan. She grins and bites his lip in response, grinding even harder. Scott can only bare to let her continue for a few moments before it's too much and he flips them over again. Moving with more intent as he kisses his way down her body, sucking on each breast – ravishing them – before sliding his hand down her stomach and into her underwear.

Tessa whimpers at the first stroke of his fingers, loud moans beginning to break free as he continues to rub her clit. Scott pauses for a moment to pull his shirt off, before reaching back down to slide a finger into her – pumping her slowly before adding a second. He watches her face closely, cupping her throat again with his left hand and forcing her to look at him while he works a finger inside her. 

He kisses her again and Tessa brings her hand up to his neck, holding him there so that she can run her tongue alongside his, her other hand clutches at his shoulder. She moves her hand from his neck to play with her breast and Scott can tell she’s getting close. It’s the hottest fucking thing ever and Scott can wait no longer.  

He leans back, tugging her underwear down her legs before shoving his own pants off and kicking them out of the way. Tessa reaches down between them and takes him in hand, guiding him to her entrance.

“Condom?” He asks in a muffled voice, mouth pressed against hers.

"It's fine. I'm on the pill."

Scott kisses her hard and pushes into her slowly, savoring the feeling of her wet heat wrapping around him without any barriers in the way. Tessa moans and lifts her legs up higher, taking more of him in. “So good, Scott.”

“You too, Tess. You feel so good.” He begins to thrust against her, slowly at first but then rapidly speeding up the pace. Tessa begins letting out sounds with wild abandon, her mouth hanging open, and Scott knows after such a long build-up that he’s not going to last much longer.

“Are you close?”

“ _Yes_. Touch me. Please”

Her voice is rough and desperate, and Scott moves his hand down between them again and moves his fingers in rapid circles around her. "Come on, T." He whispers, and it only takes a moment before she’s crying out – head falling back against the bed as her body arches into him as it comes apart.

It only takes a moment or too longer before Scott reaches his climax as well, mouth hanging open in a soundless cry before his head falls against the crook of her neck. She rubs her hands soothingly up and down his back as they both come down, and Scott places a gentle kiss on her collarbone before rolling his weight off her.

Conscious of her reaction last time though, he doesn’t go far – keeping her wrapped up tightly in his embrace. He kisses her shoulder before whispering, "I'll be right back." 

He retrieves a wet cloth from the bathroom, cleaning both of them up before tossing it in his laundry basket and climbing back into bed. 

He can feel himself already fading into sleep when he hears her giggle. “What’s so funny?” He mumbles, hoping it isn’t him she’s laughing at.

“Nothing. I’m just… really happy right now.”

Scott peeks one eye open to see her grinning at the ceiling, and he snuggles in even closer to her. Wrapping his body around hers like a pretzel. “Mmm. Me too.”

 

\-------

 

Awareness creeps over Tessa slowly as the room fills with the grey light of morning. She can tell that it’s still fairly early, and the sound of lightly falling rain starts lulling her back to sleep, but then the memories come flooding back and wake her up completely. She rolls over onto her back and opens her eyes – there’s a delicious ache between her legs and the sated feeling that only comes with really great sex that makes her smile widely at the ceiling.

Really great sex with _Scott_ , she should clarify, as he’s the only one who’s ever made her feel this bone-deep satisfaction before. She’s not sure if it’s his technique, or just something unique inside him that speaks to something inside her. Whatever it is, she’s glad she said yes to him last night.

Propping herself up on her elbows, she looks around the room for a sign of him, but he doesn’t appear to be there. She can hear noises coming from somewhere down below though, so she forces herself to get out of bed.

All it takes is one look at her rumpled clothes for her to decide not to put them back on. It’s not as if the halter top would be exactly comfortable in the morning anyway. Instead she rifles through his closet for a t-shirt and some clean boxers before checking her appearance in the bathroom mirror (rinsing her face and patting down the wilder sections of her hair) then  wanders downstairs to find him.

She’s hit with the smell of something delicious as she approaches the kitchen and the sight as she comes around the corner is like something from one of her fantasies. Scott stands at the stove, wearing nothing but a pair of low-hanging pajama pants, cooking chocolate chip pancakes just like he’d promised. Her stomach grumbles loudly, alerting him to her presence, and he twists around to wave at her with the spatula.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

“Good morning. That smells amazing!”

“I made you a promise, and I keep my promises.” He winks and then turns back around to focus on the task at hand. Tessa takes advantage of the opportunity to look him over. The lean muscles of his back – flexing slightly as he moves his arms. His messy hair (sex hair, thanks to her). The way his pajama pants cling to his simply magnificent ass. And a hickey she’d left on his collarbone.

Impulsively she walks up behind him and wraps her arms around his waist, resting her cheek on the center of his back.

He leans back a little into her embrace with a happy hum.

The pancakes smell amazing, but right now Tessa is hungry for something else. She lets her fingers drop to his waistband – running back and forth along the skin there. Tracing up and down his happy trail as she peppers little kisses between his shoulder blades.

“Tess… what are you doing?” Scott asks in a warning voice, flipping the pancake in front of him a little carelessly – smearing the batter.

“Nothing.” She replies, the voice of innocence, before pushing his pants down his legs and letting them fall to the floor. She takes him in hand, stroking him slowly. Working him up as she continues with the kisses along his spine.

"Tes-sa…” He stutters, his hand shooting out to grip the counter for support as Tessa scratches the skin under his bellybutton with her free hand.

“Yes, Scott?” She teases, squeezing him a little tighter and adding a slight twist as she pumps him. His hips buck into her hand and she grins in triumph.

“I’m trying to cook you breakfast.”

“I know. This is just the appetizer.”

As soon as he’s scooped the current pancake off the pan and onto the plate – slightly darker than the others – she spins him around away from the stove and drops to her knees, taking him in as deep as she can without warning.

“God, Tess!” He chokes out, one of his hands tightening in her messy curls as she runs her tongue along the underside of his length. Tessa watches his face while she works him – the way his eyes close and his head drops back when he can no longer bear to keep looking at her. She cups him lightly and his hips jerk forward. She hums around him in response and it’s his undoing.

He comes with a guttural groan, hand clamping down on her hair, and Tessa works him through it. Placing a gentle kiss on his thigh when he’s completely spent.

He hauls her to her feet with both hands and kisses her hard, unbothered by the taste of him that lingers in her mouth.

“You are amazing.”

“Thank you.” She replies politely, and he pulls her in for a hug that feels incredibly sweet and pure considering what they were up to literally moments ago and the fact that he’s naked in the kitchen.

They kiss for a little while before Tessa’s stomach grumbles again, even louder this time, and Scott pulls away with a laugh. “Breakfast now. No arguing.”

 

“These are the best pancakes I have ever eaten in my life. I love them. I want to marry them.” Tessa licks a piece of smeared chocolate off her finger as she talks, missing the way Scott’s eyes follow the movement. “Seriously though. Now that I know you can cook you’re never getting rid of me.”

“Good thing I like having you around then.” Scott teases, reaching over to swipe some lingering whipped cream off her cheek and popping it into his mouth. Tessa watches him, dumbfounded for a moment. The steady pulsing between her legs that she’s been trying to ignore all morning flares back to life.

“I have an idea.” Scott says, voice husky and low and instantly setting Tessa on high alert. He picks up the can of whipped cream and arches an eyebrow at her, gesturing at her chest with a glance and flick of his head.

"Oh? Oh!” Tessa replies eloquently, cheeks heating up as understanding dawns. He wants to eat that off her. Or eat her, she isn’t sure which. “Okay, um… where do you want me?”

“On the couch?” Scott suggests, as if she’d say no. _Yeah right_.

“Alright.” Tessa agrees quietly, feeling a little nervous, but the anticipation outweighs it. In her daydreams her sex life is vivid and creative, but in reality she'd never felt comfortable enough with a partner to get too wild. But with _Scott_... well, the possibilities are endless. He follows closely behind as she walks towards the giant sofa, tugging at the hem of her t-shirt once they’re standing in front of it.

"Take this off?” He looks so hopeful and excited that Tessa doesn’t hesitate to remove the shirt, even though she feels ten times more self-conscious in the light of day. “And lay down on your back.”

She does as she’s told, moving her arms up over her head again like she did last night. The couch is wide enough that Scott can lay next to her, and he props himself up on his elbow for support before spraying the first line of cream down her sternum.

“Gah! It’s cold!” Tessa jerks as it hits her skin, and Scott apologizes – licking it off quickly. _Well, that’s a new sensation_. The cold of the whipped cream followed quickly by the wet heat of his tongue has her heart stuttering and picking up the pace within seconds. 

“Sorry, sorry. Do you want to stop?”

“No, keep going.”

He sprays some more on her, this time on top of her nipple, before he takes the whole thing in his mouth, laving at it with his tongue and sucking. Pushing her nipple against the roof of his mouth. The feeling shoots straight between her legs and her hips arch up off the couch.

Scott smirks, releasing her with a pop, and she knows she’s in trouble now.

He moves down her body slowly, taking his dear sweet time with every inch of her chest and stomach – especially focusing on her bellybutton ring. She’s beginning to suspect he has a kink.

Finally he pulls her boxers off, spreading her legs wide like a butterfly before putting the whipped cream on the inside of each thigh. Her center is _aching_ to be touched by now, and Tessa can barely handle it when she feels the first flick of his tongue along her leg – moving up slowly until he’s almost where she wants him, before moving to work his way up the other side.

“Scott…” She groans, tugging at his hair. She knows what she wants him to do, but she’s afraid to ask.

“You have to say it, Tess.” He smirks, and she can feel his breath on her as he speaks.

“Come on, don’t make me.”

“How can I give you what you want, if I don’t know what it is?”

“You DO know. Please. You’re the only person who’s ever done this.” She hadn’t meant to let that last part slip out, and Scott lifts up his head so that he can look at her more clearly. 

“No. You can’t be serious. No one has gone down on you in _five years!?_ ”

Tessa wants to die from mortification. She’s absolutely ruined this whole thing. “Nope. No one’s offered and I didn’t want to ask.” She confesses anyway. _In for a penny, in for a pound_. She might as well be honest. 

“That is a travesty. A goddamn disgrace. You shouldn’t have _had_ to ask. Those boys didn’t deserve you. But also, I’d be lying if I said I’m not honored to be the only one. I’ll happily go down on you every day, anytime you ask, if you let me.”

“You don’t have to-“

"Tess, I _want_ to. Please.”

She nods, running her fingers through his hair. “Okay.” She wants him to so badly. 

He smiles up at her, placing a tender kiss to the juncture at the inside of the top of her leg – so close to where she wants him.

He starts slow – gentle licks with his tongue that gradually increase in pressure – driving her wild, her hips canting up to meet his mouth. He uses one hand to hold her leg open while the other comes up to join his mouth. Two fingers pumping inside her. His eyes never leave hers as he drives her higher and higher, eventually adding a third finger, and she is _so close_. The combination of his heavy gaze and the actions of his mouth and fingers has her eyes falling closed, but Scott doesn’t like that.

“No, keep your eyes on me. I want to see you come.”

She struggles to do as she’s told, her eyelids fluttering in protest, but he rewards her for her efforts. The moment her eyes meet his he wraps his lips around her clit and sucks, his fingers curling _just so_ inside her, and Tessa comes with a shout. Hips jerking wildly as her orgasm crashing over her.

Scott has to throw his arm over her hips to keep her from breaking his nose as he works her through it, continuing to suck and lick and employ every tactic he knows until a smaller orgasm crests in the wake of her first one.

She finally has to push his head away when she becomes too sensitive, her chest heaving as she tries to regain her breath.

Scott kisses and nibbles his way up her body until they’re eye to eye, at which point he gently caresses her face before kissing her. So soft and tender she could cry.

“Tess… I realize this might not be the best time to ask this, but… we’re dating now, right?”

Tessa, who can’t even be bothered to close her legs she’s so boneless, laughs – easy and free. “We better be after all that.”

“Oh good.” He makes a satisfied hum before climbing over her to stand up.

“Where are you going?”

“I need a shower, and so do you.” He reaches a hand out to help her up – holding onto her elbows as she steadies her shaky legs.

“And then what?”

“A nap, and then we’ll go see a movie and I’ll take you out to dinner like a proper boyfriend.”

Tessa grins from ear to ear at him. The word falls so easily from his lips that she can’t help but feel like jumping for joy. “I think we’ve gone about this whole thing backwards.”

“Yeah, probably, but we got here in the end.”

“Yes we did. Thank God for ballroom dance.”

Scott laughs joyously against her mouth before kissing her deeply, and Tessa falls into his arms and into her future – one where Scott will be a permanent fixture.

 

   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am literally posting this before running out the door to catch a plane, so sorry for any glaring mistakes.


End file.
